Firsts
by waterlilylf
Summary: How do you get past losing the love of your life, the person you fell in love with when you were just fifteen? Trowa desperately needs someone special in his life, even if he hasn't quite realised it yet.. Yaoi. Post - canon. 3 x 2.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: They do not belong to me in any way, shape or form.

Note 1: No thanks whatsoever to Kaeru Shisho for aiding, abetting and encouraging me.

Note 2: This is for Dyna Dee, with Many Happy Returns.

 **Chapter 1 – First Time:**

Their first time was every porn cliché in the universe.

It was something of a trend, these days; Preventer porn, or at least actors in uniforms which were vaguely Preventer-ish, presumably to avoid any kind of lawsuits or whatever. He had scary visions of Une watching them on her days off, making notes on anything which might be considered in any way actionable.

In the porn flicks, it was just like this. Two hot, hard-bodied agents, cleaning up after a mission, high on success and survival and adrenalin, scoping out each other as they stripped off their artfully dishevelled uniforms. Eyes suddenly meeting, as they realised what the other was doing, and then tearing at each other's strategically-torn clothing.

As far as he knew, nothing like that had ever happened in reality. Oh, everyone claimed to know someone who knew someone who'd done it in the locker room or the showers or wherever, but it was always _that American guy who went to Mars, remember him?_ or _that South African chick, she transferred to Canada or somewhere after._

He didn't believe a word of it.

After most missions, the only thing you wanted to do was go home and sleep your brains out, not screw some random co-worker into oblivion.

It hadn't even been that sort of mission. He wasn't even a field agent. He was a forensic accountant, for fuck's sake, and yeah, the two-week internal auditing job on L3 had given him some satisfaction, and the odd thrill, but hardly an adrenalin rush. Certainly not any desperate desire to grab the first warm body he saw and fuck him.

The only reason he'd even been in the locker room in the first place was because he'd picked up the wrong laptop bag as they got off the shuttle. He hadn't even noticed until he'd been putting the damn thing into the back of his car and realised they'd switched bags. He'd considered doing nothing about it; after all, they'd both be in the office first thing, and it wasn't as if they'd be logging on to any work this late, and they had their own tablets for personal stuff.

He wasn't even sure why he'd made the snap decision to go and find the bag's real owner; he could have just sent a quick text. After the long shuttle flight, he'd maybe fancied stretching his legs a bit before driving home, so he'd stowed his own case and settled the laptop across his shoulder, and headed back into the building and made some sort of joke with the duty officer about not being able to stay away from the place. She'd laughed.

And then he'd been walking into the locker rooms and then….,,he still wasn't entirely sure what had happened after that.

He'd never bought into the claims of _oh, I don't know, it just happened, I must have tripped over something and my dick fell into his ass_. Sex wasn't like that, it was deliberate and intentional and, yeah, there was a definite point where hormones took over, but there was some sort of premeditation beforehand, even if it was only to consider access to condoms and lube.

Always.

Not any more.

This wasn't… he didn't do stuff like this. He got teased for it sometimes, that he liked the flowers-and-poetry bit; something no one ever expected if they knew anything about how he'd grown up.

Yeah, there'd been the few months, post-Quatre, where he'd picked up strangers in bars and screwed them in back alleys and bathrooms, but even those encounters had had more intimacy and affection and sheer _fun_ than this.

Whatever the hell this was.

Every fucking porn cliché truly, except maybe the dirty talk. No talking at all, just Trowa's zip jerking down, and the sudden rip of fabric, and two bodies colliding.

He'd got off, yeah, in about ten seconds of what had probably been the worst sexual encounter of his entire life.

Numbly, he watched the other man stand, fumble his clothing into place, head deliberately turned away. Then he turned back, just for a second, and they looked at each other.

Even over the heavy, industrial-strength of the chemical cleaners the janitors used, he could still smell the sharp tang of sex. Trowa knew he'd showered, used the cheap shower gel they used in the shower dispensers, but there was still the very faint smell of engine grease, or maybe he was just imagining it.

He'd spent years associating sex with the smell of the sea, with exotic flowers. His first time.

This was nothing, less than nothing.

Hell, he had no fucking clue what it was.

Something must have shown in his expression; those big, violet-blue eyes jerked away from his, and Trowa was abruptly alone with a slammed door, and a sick feeling in his gut.

Heero Yuy was going to kill him.

Duo sidles into his office five days later, kicking the door shut with one heel, and slouching against it.

Trowa nods; he's just won a private bet with himself. He and Duo aren't friends, precisely; maybe, more friendish. They work together sometimes, and there's all that ancient history during the war, but for years all of their interactions have been filtered through the others.

He knows Duo well enough though, knows about the running and hiding thing. He doesn't doubt that Duo could keep that up for ever, but it's awkward with colleagues who have mutual friends, and anyway Duo does face up to things eventually. He just needs some space first.

Trowa had given him five days to show up, six max. He's not sure what to award himself as a prize.

Duo doesn't say anything at first, just leans against the door, hands in his pockets. A few years back, he'd undoubtedly have had the tip of his braid in his mouth, nibbling it, but his hair's too short now.

A damn shame, that is. It had been unbelievably sexy in that Duo-way that Trowa had never been entirely sure was intentional or not. He's doing it now, the way he's standing.

One hip just thrust forward, one long leg bent slightly at the knee, left hand in his back pocket, resting against the curve of his ass.

Fuck.

There's definite heat pooling between Trowa's legs, lust and something else, a sudden flare of pride.

He'd bagged Duo Maxwell. Duo's the prize, the one everyone wants, doubly desirable because of his looks, and the fact that he's utterly unattainable, by virtue of his steel-bending boyfriend. Or whatever Heero is.

And yeah, even if the sex was pretty much a wash-out, it _was_ the first time and hardly the best location, with half of bloody Preventers on the other side of the unlocked door. Not everyone can have their first time in a four-poster bed, in the Caribbean. Heero's a bloody perfectionist, and Duo's nothing if not competitive. He doesn't doubt that, under optimum circumstances, the sex will be off the charts.

Would be.

Hypothetically.

Duo Maxwell looks at him for a long minute, absent all the usual sass and snark and swagger.

'So. Um. That thing the other night.'

'The sex thing?' Trowa clarifies helpfully, lowering the timbre of his voice to the register that always used to make Quatre shiver, just to see if he can make Duo blush.

He doesn't. 'Yeah. The sex thing.'

There's a rather surreal moment when Duo frowns, looking like he might actually critique his performance. It can't have been much good for him either, after hardly any prep, after he'd barely allowed any. He's mostly used to Heero though, and Trowa can't imagine Heero being anything other than a straight in-and-out, get-the-mission-over-with sort of guy in bed.

So maybe Duo's not used to anything else.

Duo pushes off from the door, and says, in a do-or-die kind of voice, 'I just wanted you to know, I mean, it was pretty stupid and shit, but I'm clean. You don't need to worry about that.'

'I know,' Trowa says quietly. Yeah, he had been worried, when he'd thought about it, just a bit. Not because of Heero, but because he knows there've been other guys. Quite a few of them, by all reports. 'I checked your medical records,' he explains and Duo just nods.

'Yeah. Anyway.' Trowa doesn't think he's ever seen him so off-balance, heard him so inarticulate. 'I was thinking, you want to go get a coffee or something?'

Trowa just looks at him. 'Coffee, OK. If that's all you want. That's it. I'm not getting into whatever's going on with you and Heero.'

By now he knows, everyone in a ten-mile-radius knows, that Duo and Heero are fighting. It's probably a large part of what prompted the sex thing.

He and Quatre had had some pretty spectacular blow-ups over the years, but Quat always had a thing about never going to bed angry, and Trowa believed in keeping conflict in-house and private, so they'd usually been of fairly short duration and most people believe they'd never so much as shared a cross word.

Always the perfect couple.

Heero and Duo are the exact opposite. Their fights are duels to the death, no mercy, no quarter. Every argument is purely toxic: a plummeting spiral that starts with whatever the present grievance happens to be, and works its way downwards to every fight they've ever had.

 _You shot me, you stole my Gundam, you took the last juice box and you_ _ **knew**_ _I wanted it, you were going to_ _ **kill**_ _me._

Their fights drag on for days, weeks, and they try to drag everyone else in as well; their friends, colleagues, random strangers on the street.

Trowa figures the make-up sex has to be whole constellations full of spectacular for them to put up with it.

'Shit,' Duo snaps, glaring at him. 'It's a fucking cup of coffee. You don't have to. I'm not twisting your damn arm, Barton. You can say no.'

'Yeah?' Trowa lifts an eyebrow at him, taunting. 'Can I? You didn't exactly give me a chance to say no the other night.'

'Oh, fuck off,' Duo says, very clearly. 'Not like I raped you.' It takes him four strides to cross the office floor to the desk. By then, Trowa is already out of his chair, not quite sure what he's about to do until Duo is right in front of him, leaning over the desk.

They hadn't kissed that night, had somehow managed to achieve grimly-focused climaxes with the bare minimum of physical contact, so Duo's mouth under his is a revelation. He could do this, more than happily, for the rest of his life, Heero Yuy be damned.

Heero.

Shit.

He bites down on Duo's bottom lip, and then swipes his tongue across it, and Duo honest-to-God _moans_ , a sound that goes direct to Trowa's groin.

It's two years, more or less, since he did the hardest thing he's ever had to do, and this should be easy in comparison, just breaking off a kiss; a kiss which is an insanely bad idea by any reckoning.

Should be easy.

'Heero's my friend.' He finally manages to pull away just enough to say the words, to breathe them into the skin at Duo's neck. They're supposed to be some sort of magic talisman, a way to push Duo off.

'And?' Duo looks at him like he's said something crazy.

' _And_ you two are together.'

'Heero fucks me when he needs somewhere to stick it,' Duo says, very crude, very explicit. 'We're not _together_. I can do what I like.' There's more than a hint of the usual bravado in there; Trowa knows him well enough to guess he's covering something up. 'So. You up for round two?'

Trowa shrugs, taking a couple of steps back behind his desk, removing himself from the danger zone. 'I thought you wanted to go for coffee. We can do that if you still want. Actually talk about whatever's going on with you.'

Of all the impossible things in the universe, that makes Duo blush. Trowa can actually see the options he's weighing up in his eyes; run off or take a swing at him. Instead, he nods and then grins suddenly. 'Coffee. OK. Whatevs. Or tea. Maybe cocoa, even, if you want. Very unsexy.'

He's one step in front as they leave the office, Trowa pacing him obediently, letting him set the pace. This way, he gets to enjoy the view, that delicious ass and the jaunty bounce of Duo's shining hair in its ponytail.

He's impossibly, painfully hard by the time they get halfway to the lift; they're outside on the street before his bloodstream diverts even a token service back to his brain, and by then he realises he's being played. Duo's damn good; the entire walk has been nothing but one long tease on his part. All those little sidelong glances as he checks Trowa's still there, one hand fleetingly brushing Trowa's arm he holds a door open, even the damn ponytail.

Of course he's good, Trowa acknowledges ruefully. He got Heero Yuy, indisputably the most driven, focussed person in the world, into bed when he was fifteen, in the middle of a war. He's kept him there pretty much ever since, despite the claim that they're not a couple.

He fully expects them to end up in a bar, but Duo takes him a few blocks away from HQ, to a frilly little tea shop that's otherwise populated by old ladies with shopping trolleys. They settle themselves at a table by the window, among the gingham table cloths and china kittens and lacy napkins.

Duo adjusts the rose-patterned cushion at his back and gives Trowa that meltingly innocent look that's usually a forerunner of something about to go boom in the immediate future. 'Is this safe enough for you?'

Trowa grins back. Can't help it for the world. The little brat.

Duo greets their waitress by name, and orders lemon tea and shortbread without even looking at the menu. Trowa asks for cocoa, just to keep the joke going, and gets an appreciative laugh from Duo in return, and they sit in silence as their waitress flutters around with doilies and pastry forks and a fiddly little pair of tongs for picking up sugar lumps. It's not, in a million years, the sort of place he'd ever imagined Duo would hang out in but he's obviously familiar with the place, nodding at a couple of grey-haired grandmotherly types.

Trowa can't, for the life of him, imagine Heero Yuy in a place like this.

Duo's tea comes with a pretty little china dish of honey on the side. He dips his spoon in, twirling it around three times before tapping it on the side, very precisely, so it won't drip on the table-cloth, and stirs it into his tea, before putting it back on the saucer, just so. It's a habit he picked up from Quatre, every movement, and then he looks up and sees the look on Trowa's face.

It only takes him a second to realise; he's quick. Or maybe it's just that bloody obvious. 'Shit.' He says it loud enough that a number of permed, blue-rinsed heads turn to look at him, and there are a few disapproving nods. He does blush then. It's almost funny. 'Sorry.'

'It's not a thing,' Trowa says quickly. He should be used to it, after two years, that every day the universe will spring at least one memory of Quatre on to him. He's never ready, though. 'Duo, tell me something.'

'Like, something in particular?'

'The thing on Monday. What exactly was that about?'

'Jeez, Barton.' Duo picks up his cup, and then replaces it on its little saucer with the pattern of violets. 'Sure that's direct enough for you?'

'Actually, you were the direct one,' Trowa points out. 'So, what happened? You've known me for nearly ten years. What was it, you suddenly couldn't cope with all those years of unrequited lust and just had to jump me before you spontaneously combusted?'

Duo gives him a filthy look. 'For the record, I could've spent every one of those years shimmying around naked in front of you, and you'd never have noticed.'

'Well, actually,' Trowa says, very dry. 'I'm pretty sure I'd have noticed at some point.'

Duo grins at that. 'Yeah, maybe.'

'So? I asked you a question. Remember?'

Duo sighs into his teacup. 'I'm sorry, OK? It was dumb. I don't know. I mean, yeah, I always thought you were hot. Come on, you must've picked up on that. And I was royally pissed off at Heero, and I guess I was upset, and I don't know, you were there. It probably could have been anyone.'

'That's flattering.'

More or less what he'd expected though, and he'd been thinking about it pretty much obsessively, trying to work out if maybe something had happened while they'd been on L3. He'd come up with nothing. Duo hadn't even been there the whole time; he'd turned up a week into the trip when Trowa had found enough evidence squirreled away that the station chief was on the take, and Internal Affairs had got involved. Even then, he'd just had a couple of meals with Duo, and always with a few other people, and yeah, they'd been on the same shuttle home, but Trowa had spent it doing paperwork, and Duo had disappeared into the engine room as soon as they'd taken off, and come back for landing, with grease under his fingernails and a few dark streaks on his shirt.

Nothing; no sudden connection or moments of mutual understanding or sympathy. Just Duo Maxwell wanting to get laid, and Trowa being convenient. Not really the first time Duo's done something similar, in the middle of a fight. He knows, because he's heard Heero yelling about it often enough.

'Yeah, well.' Duo shrugs. 'I didn't tell Heero. In case you're worried.'

'I guessed. Since I'm still walking around with an un-broken neck and all.'

'Nah. He wouldn't.' Duo's tone doesn't carry a whole lot of conviction, though. 'He'd say I'm not worth it. And it's none of his business anyway.'

'You do live together,' Trowa points out tonelessly.

'No. We share a house. And sometimes a horizontal slash vertical surface when Mr. Perfect Soldier needs to get his rocks off.'

'He's my friend.'

'He's an asshole,' Duo snaps. 'And fuck it, what I just said, it's not true. We don't share a house any more. I moved out last night.'

That's a surprise, but then maybe it shouldn't be. The row yesterday morning had been vicious, even by their standards. Wufei had actually gone in to intervene when Heero got to the _L2 slut_ bit, and slunk out a few seconds later, looking terrified. Trowa had felt a bit sorry for him, and then decided 'Fei should have known better. After all, those two had been traumatising him since they'd all been fifteen and he'd walked in on them at that safe house.

'I'm sorry,' Trowa offers.

'Yeah. Whatever.' He takes a dainty little sip of his tea. 'Probably should have done it years ago.'

'Maybe you should.' He reaches across the table, catching Duo's wrist, and pulling his sleeve back. His arm is lividly black and blue, to the elbow. 'Ouch,' he says softly, trailing his fingertips over the damaged skin. Duo's so bloody _out there_ all the time, so determinedly larger than life, that it's always a shock how insubstantial he really is. Trowa's fingers can circle his wrist.

Duo allows it for a moment and then pulls his arm back. 'You should see the other guy.'

'I have actually.' Heero's sporting a massive purple bruise on his left cheek; it looks painful, but it was obviously planted in a carefully chosen spot, keeping clear of his eyes and nose.

'He doesn't realise.'

Trowa buries a snort in his cocoa. Heero's damn well old enough and smart enough to know exactly what he's doing. And he shouldn't be doing it in any case. Trowa would have cut his own arm off, rather than ever hurt Quatre. And just because Duo quite undoubtedly asks for it, it's no reason for Heero to respond.

'Don't look at me like that,' Duo flares. 'I'm not some fu…, victim.

'I know,' Trowa says calmly. 'Duo. Drink your tea before it gets cold.'

Duo splutters a laugh, and obeys. 'God. Heero always says you're funny. I never really got it.'

'Oh, I'm hilarious. Where are you staying?'

'Huh?' It takes him a second to catch on. ''Fei's couch. Me and a million books. He works late most nights, or goes over to Zechs' place. Why? Fancy coming over?'

'What for?' He's suddenly incandescent with fury and doesn't even know why, except that Duo Maxwell is sitting a few inches away, batting those ridiculously long lashes at him, and it obviously doesn't mean a damn thing to him. He manages to keep his voice low though, mindful of their company. 'Another wholly forgettable fuck, like the other night?'

'Oh, fuck _you_ ,' Duo lashes out at him, and everyone woman in the teashop gasps in well-simulated horror. They're lapping all of this up, naturally. Better than the daily soap opera.

'Well, if you want it that way, sure,' Trowa says composedly, and Duo jumps to his feet, shoving his chair out of the way as he storms out. Trowa slides a few notes out of his wallet as he follows, as the grannies tut at him, and resists, just, the temptation to sweep them a bow on his way out. God, Duo really knows how to pick places to have a fight; he feels a sudden slither of sympathy for Heero, putting up with this for years.

He catches Duo at the corner; a definite advantage of longer legs, and grabs his arm – the one that's not bruised, pulling him into a doorway.

'I'm not just one of your random one night stands, OK?' he hisses angrily in Duo's ear. 'Don't you fucking dare treat me like one.'

'What do you want then?' Duo snaps back. 'A _relationship_?' He says it like it's the filthiest word in the universe, like it's poison. 'Get real, Barton. I get the message; slumming once was enough for you, right? Don't need to rub my face in it.'

'Actually, you don't get anything at all, if that's what you think,' Trowa tells him crisply. 'But you do _not_ get to treat me like that. I fucked you five days ago, and I haven't been able to think of anything else for one second since. I have no idea what you want to happen next, but either we never talk about it again, or else we're at the start of something.'

'I thought you said I was forgettable.' He's breathing hard.

This is their pattern, Trowa realises abruptly. Duo and Heero. It's how they work. Duo pounding at Heero's reserve until he cracks, doing anything to get his attention. It's how they were at fifteen, and they've never actually moved past it.

'Then you weren't listening properly. I never actually said that.'

God, it's almost criminally easy to put him off balance. He lets Duo go, flicks one finger against his cheek and then gives the ponytail a gentle tug, just because he's been wanting to do since forever, and it feels just as good as he'd imagined. 'Ball's in your court, Maxwell. Let me know what you want. You know where I am.'


	2. First Date?

Disclaimer: They don't belong to me. At all. Sadly.

 **Chapter 2 - First Date?:**

He'd been on dates before. Actual dates with drinks and dinner as opposed to cruising some guy in a bar. Most of them had been pleasant enough, and a couple of the more successful ones had ended up in sex, which was clearly considered the grand prize of the dating thing, and he'd never once had any desire to see any of the men again.

Anyway. The point was that he'd done it; gone and sat with total strangers, most of whom had been introduced to him by Cathy, or sometimes friends or colleagues, and eaten some fairly good meals, and made small talk about food or films or travel, and tried to sound interested in other people's holiday stories or childhood anecdotes or whatever.

It wasn't all that hard. And it wasn't as if Duo was a total stranger. If they ran out of things to talk about, there was always work and Wufei, and any hobbies Duo had which didn't involve Heero.

He'd been out with Duo before, plenty of times. Never just the two of them, but still. He had a fairish idea what sort of food Duo liked – anything, really – and the sort of places he enjoyed going to, so he'd selected a little Italian restaurant in the city centre where he went fairly regularly. It was casually cosy without being over-the-top romantic, and the food was good.

Really, it was just dinner with a guy he knew fairly well; a guy he'd fucked at work.

Duo Maxwell.

Shit.

Duo had rung him two days ago – ostensibly over a work thing – and in the course of the determinedly work-themed conversation which followed, he'd mentioned that he had to be out of the house on Thursday night because 'Fei was having Zechs over. Trowa had obligingly taken the hint and suggested going out for dinner and Duo had faffed a bit and then said a bit grudgingly that he didn't have anything else on, so he might as well.

Trowa got to the restaurant first, and had five minutes to browse the menu before Duo turned up.

Heads turned as he walked through the door, acquiring a bit of a swagger on the way for his appreciative public, and clearly loving the attention. He'd dressed up too. His clothes normally fell into two very distinct categories; baggy hoodies and sweaters a couple of sizes too big for him, or else the sort of spray-on, strategically-ripped jeans and skimpy tops that most people considered were Saturday night, heavy-duty cruising gear. Whatever he wore was usually a fairly effective barometer of how his relationship with Heero happened to be going at any given time.

Trowa wasn't sure where tailored dark slacks and a silky purple shirt fit into the equation.

He considered getting up and pulling Duo's chair out, since it was an official date, after all, and decided Duo would probably thump him for trying. He settled for telling him how good he looked.

Duo looked taken aback for a second as he sat down, and then recovered his equilibrium with a flick of his ponytail. 'I always look good. So,' he picked up his menu, and regarded Trowa over the top of it, eyes dancing. 'Is this the sort of date where we suck each other off under the table before we get our entrées, or the sort where we spend the whole night making up cutesy anecdotes about pets we had when we were kids?'

'I had a horse,' Trowa said at once. 'For three days. Rosie, I called her. She pulled one of our supply carts. Then she slipped in the mud one day and broke her leg. Had to be shot. We boiled her up to make soup.'

'I had rats,' Duo whipped back. 'Not much meat on 'em, but a nice crunch to the bones. Interesting flavour, sometimes,' he added reminiscently, 'depending on what garbage they'd been eating.'

'And the tails,' Trowa deadpanned. 'Chewy. You could get an hour out of a good tail.'

'For real?' Duo pressed, obviously thinking Trowa was sending him up.

Trowa just shrugged, and let him work it out. He knew Duo hadn't had it easy growing up on L2, but it hadn't exactly been a cakewalk for him either.

'Wow. Hope you never told Quat any of that.'

'How much of an idiot do you think I am?'

'Good call, probably. He'd have seriously freaked. And he'd never have let your mouth go anywhere near him if he thought you'd actually eaten rats. So, you ready to order now? I'm starving.'

'Sure.' He beckoned a waiter over; a guy he knew slightly from coming here, and had once known pretty well for about ten minutes in the little delivery yard outside. Bruno managed to take their orders while simultaneously staring at Duo and muttering comments under his breath about Duo's looks, hotness and general perfection.

Duo was seemingly absorbed in studying the wine list, but his colour had heightened, just a little. He gave his order with unusual crispness and there was a grim set to his mouth as Bruno walked off. 'So, good to have options, right?' he remarked tightly. 'If it doesn't wash out with you tonight, I've got myself a Plan B right there.'

'Definitely. Wait. You can speak Italian?'

'Hardly needed to, considering the guy was practically drooling over me,' Duo said tartly. 'But, yeah, I speak it a bit. I did my Masters in Rome. Can't live somewhere for a year and not pick up some of the lingo. You knew that, right?'

'I guess I must have.' He had known it. Surely. Someone must have mentioned it. Except he would have been at Oxford that year, with Quat, and the rest of the world could have evaporated for all he cared.

Duo grinned. 'No biggie. Not like I'd have known anything about what you were up to, except you were always with Quatre.'

'Yeah. So, Rome. How was that?'

'Pretty cool, actually. I mean, you've been there, so you know.' He started to talk about places he'd visited, and then Bruno drifted back over with their drinks.

Trowa gave him a good, hard stare that made him tear his eyes off Duo – God, had the asshole been looking at him like that the whole time? – and rush off.

'Are you, like, defending my honour or something?' Duo asked disbelievingly. ''Cause I'm pretty sure I don't have any, and I'm pretty capable of looking after myself. You didn't have to give the poor guy filthies on my account.'

'If you want, I can call him back over and introduce you.'

'Yeah, I really get attracted to guys who stare at me like I'm a piece of meat laid out on a slab. Who wouldn't?'

Trowa lifted his glass and took a swallow of beer. 'I invited you here. You shouldn't have to feel uncomfortable.'

Duo's expression suddenly softened. 'It's OK. Not like it doesn't happen all the time. I'd have handled it, except he seemed to know you pretty well, and I'm on my best behaviour anyway.'

'Are you really?'

Duo picked up his glass, clinked it against Trowa's. 'Maybe you'll get to find out.' He kept his eyes on Trowa's as he drank, making a damn performance of it, sighing appreciatively as he breathed in the wine and then swallowing, those long fingers wrapped around the stem. His lips were stained a darker red when he put the glass down.

Best behaviour, right.

'No more pet stories?' Duo teased. 'Does this mean you're ready to skip straight to getting down and dirty?'

'We had a lion at the circus,' Trowa said evenly. 'This new guy, total idiot, thought it'd be fun to go into his cage. I think his whole head got bitten off, pretty much. I've never seen so much blood.'

'Ouch. That's some passion killer. You know, you might possibly want to start working on your sweet nothings, Barton.'

Trowa shrugged. 'I was going for the passion-killing.'

'Seriously?' Duo wrinkled his nose in distaste, and pulled a strand of hair free and twirled it around one finger, clearly aiming for winsome and adorable and just about pulling it off. 'Sure you're not just turned on by people getting their heads torn off by giant kitties?'

'Pretty sure.'

'Okey dokey,' Duo said brightly. 'So, back to my first question of the night. What's it going to be?'

It took Trowa a second to catch up. 'You always end up doing one or the other on your dates?'

'Me? Nope. Don't do the whole dating thing. This is the first time, pretty much. But I hear people talking. Seems like it only goes two ways. You either skip the whole dinner thing, and go straight to the end game, or you sit for two hours wishing you could, and having to outdo each other with cutesy little stories or shit. Or if you're Wufei, you get whisked off to Venice in a private jet. That'd be kind of nice, actually.'

'Yeah, well, sorry I don't measure up to Zechs.'

Duo grinned. 'You measure up all right in other ways.'

'Is that from personal experience?'

'Hell, no. How much of a death wish do you think I have?'

'Wow. I didn't know you had any instincts of self-preservation at all.'

'I don't have a whole lot,' Duo owned. 'But I do have some limits as to how dumb I can be. Heero'd have eviscerated me with one fingernail.'

'Do I have that to look forward to?'

'Nah. It would've been the whole Zechs thing. He doesn't really care about whatever else I do.' He picked up his wine glass again, and swirled the contents around, bending slightly to breathe in. 'So, no more dinky little anecdotes about circus animals eating people? Come on, entertain me, why don't you?'

Everyone always said Duo was so charming. Trowa had never entirely got it. Yeah, he'd seen Duo turning on the charm when he wanted something, and people always fell for it. Just another tool in the Maxwell arsenal. He'd wondered how people could be such idiots, but somehow he got people to spill whatever he wanted, even knowing he was in I.A., that he was investigating them.

But then he'd never had Duo alone in a restaurant, gazing at him with his chin propped in one hand, and the candle flame reflected in those amazing eyes, and Duo fully focused on him. God, it was beyond intoxicating.

At some point, their food arrived, and the empty plates were taken away after, so he'd presumably eaten something, but he couldn't have said what it was, how it had tasted. He'd been bloody bewitched.

'Duo. What are we doing?'

'Uh. Eating pasta?' Duo looked down at the table, apparently surprised to see tiramisu instead of the lasagne he'd ordered for his main course. 'Dessert.'

'Seriously?'

'Seriously, you're asking me?' Duo shook his head, ponytail swinging. God, if he didn't get to let Duo's hair loose, to _touch_ it, he'd go crazy. 'What do _you_ want?'

Wasn't that the question?

'I don't just want a fling,' he said finally. 'I've done that. I want more. Someone who's not just with me for sex.' There, that was perfectly honest. He'd done the screwing-around thing after Quatre, for long enough to know that it wasn't for him.

Duo's eyes gleamed. 'But you do want the sex too, right?'

'Well, of course. Not on the first date,' he added hurriedly.

'Hardly the first date,' Duo mused. 'Second, no? Or third?'

'What, you're counting that time in the locker room as an actual date?'

'Hell, yeah.' His mouth curled. 'Ooops. Silly me. _You're_ the one who forgot about it, right?'

'Back to that?' Trowa wondered. 'Duo, listen. I shouldn't have said that. I was just pissed off at you. I didn't mean you were forgettable. I'm sure you're amazing in bed.'

'Got that right.'

He was like a little kid sometimes, preening at a compliment. Like one of Cathy's daughters. 'Let's say the … situation wasn't optimal,' Trowa said carefully. 'I was wrecked, and come _on_ , the locker room's hardly the best place. Anyone could've come in.'

'Whatevs. For someone who's not into sex on the actual first date, you've kind of missed the boat.'

'First official date,' Trowa said hurriedly. 'Duo, this is … going to be complicated. There's Heero for a start. He's a friend of mine. I don't want to do anything to hurt him.'

'I _told_ you, we're over. What, you didn't believe me?'

'I do, honestly. But, God, we all work together. We're friends. I don't want to do anything to hurt him.'

Duo shrugged. 'Didn't seem too worried about that a week ago, were you? Not like I drugged you or something. You were into it. And you're hardly in any position to take the moral high ground.'

'What the hell is that supposed to mean?'

'What the hell it means,' Duo snapped back, 'is that I exactly how long you were fucking your ex. Your ex who just happened to be married. Didn't care too much about hurting his wife, did you? Or didn't she count?'

 _Shit_.

No one, _no one_ , was supposed to know about that.

'It's over,' Trowa grated. 'Two years ago. You know so much about me, I'm sure you know that. '

Duo gave him a look of pure scepticism. Quatre's best friend. Fuck. Of course he knew. Knew far too bloody much, clearly.

'You threw yourself at me, if you remember,' he snapped, going on the attack. 'You didn't seem to care all that much about your boyfriend either.'

'He wasn't my _boyfriend_. His go-to guy when he needed to get laid, maybe.'

'You were with him for ten years.'

'I was not!'

'I can count, Duo. I was there, remember?' Trowa said. 'That safe house in France, during the war? That was the first time, right?''

Duo laughed suddenly. ''God, yeah. The time Wufei walked in on us. I think he's still not right, the poor guy. But yeah, that was the first time. OK, we hooked up a couple times during the war. So what? It's not like we screwed our way through the whole thing. Hey, you were there; it wasn't exactly like there were a whole lot of opportunities and you have actually met Heero, right? You get where his focus was, and I swear, it wasn't on my ass.'

'He's an idiot,' Trowa said huskily.

'Yeah, totes,' Duo said, reaching behind with one hand and giving his backside a complacent pat. 'Seriously, it's stellar, right? Like, it could be a porn star in its own right. So, anyway, yeah, he did me a few times, once he figured out where to stick it 'cause, like, the poor guy was totally clueless but after that, hell, I hardly saw him for about four years. We were on different continents most of the time, studying at different universities.'

'You've been living together since you came back to Sanc.'

'Sharing a house,' Duo retorted. 'Very occasionally, bodily fluids. Look, there was never that much between us, and whatever there was is over, and that's all there is to it.'

Not remotely that simple, Trowa thought. Duo could make light of it all he wanted, but they'd lived together or shared a house or whatever he called it for four years, and for Duo, who could have had anyone he wanted by lifting a finger – hell, just by giving someone one look from those amazing eyes - that damn well meant something.

'So, what do you want from me?'

'Who says I want anything from you?'

Trowa grinned. 'Well. You're the one who called me.'

'Maybe I just wanted someone to eat dinner with.'

'Fair enough,' Trowa said calmly. 'Except you've finished eating and you're still here.'

'Still have to settle the bill,' Duo retorted. 'They usually like you to do that before you leave. Although I could probably get a free dinner if I asked that waiter to leave with me, d'you reckon?'

'Oh, absolutely. You going to do that?'

'Nah. He's not so hot. Plus, it'd be kind of tacky to come here with you and go home with someone else.'

'It would, yeah.'

'So.' Duo pulled a couple of strands free from his ponytail, and twirled them idly around one finger. 'You asked what I wanted. How about you invite me home and I'll do a show and tell?'

'You weren't listening to all the stuff I said about not having sex on a first date?'

'Heard all the words,' Duo confirmed, a sneaky little smile on his lips. 'Thing is, I also saw the way you've been looking at me. I'm getting kind of mixed signals here, Trowa. Like, you think I'm off limits 'cause of Heero, or 'cause you have all this dumb ideas about romancing me, or 'cause you want to get to know me better, or whatever, but at the same time it's not what you really want, is it?'

'I told you what I want,' Trowa said stiffly, beckoning a waiter over and asking for the bill. If there was someone else around, he was maybe less likely to drag Duo under the table. Possibly. He dug his credit card out of his wallet. 'Let me get this?'

'If you let me make it up to you,' Duo breathed.

'Sure. You can pay next time.'

'Hmm. Not exactly what I meant.'

Shit. Double buggering shit. Duo had his head tilted just a little, so his shining ponytail fell over one shoulder, and Trowa didn't know if he was wearing lip gloss or what, but his mouth looked irresistibly soft and warm and pink and he knew how it tasted even, and there was challenge in those dark eyes, and something else as well. Glimmering amusement and very definite sparks of arousal.

'We'd better go.' He scrawled his name on the flimsy little credit card slip, not bothering to add a tip. Bloody Bruno, staring at Duo like that. 'We're the last ones here.'

'Shit, so we are.' Duo looked around in surprise as he got up, darting Bruno a languishing smile that made the waiter stumble over a chair, and made Trowa want to hit someone. Instead, he grabbed Duo's hand and pulled him outside. Duo went, his hand warm and firm in Trowa's.

'Where are you parked?'

'Over there.' Duo jerked his chin; he'd got a great parking spot just outside the restaurant door. 'So, your car or mine?'

'I thought you were on your best behaviour.'

'Oh, I am,' Duo assured him airily. 'Or else we'd be under our table right now. Or on it. Whichever you fancied.'

'Classic rule of dating; no sex on the first night.'

The very tip of Duo's tongue slipped out, teasing. 'I don't believe in rules. Never read a rule book in my whole life.'

'It shows.'

'Mmm.' He slipped his hand free, and hopped into his jeep, winding the window down a few inches. 'So, this is me. You in or out? Up to you.'

'Out, by the looks of it.' He had a logical, orderly list in his head of reasons why it would be a bad, very bad, idea just to get in the jeep. Duo was on the rebound. There was almost certainly still something between him and Heero. Heero was a close friend and Duo slept with other people just to piss him off, or get his attention. Trowa wasn't into the whole one-night thing. He'd been there, done that, got past it. He definitely wasn't into one night stands with people he knew; way too complicated.

He had Duo looking at him.

'What the fuck do you actually want from me, Barton? Just level with me, OK? Maybe it's just that I'm not so bright, but you're totally wrecking my head here. And I know damn well what I want. You, in me, balls-deep and going like an express train.'

Trowa took a very deliberate, measured step backwards. 'Duo, I do want that. You know damn well I do. I just want more than sex.'

'You actually want to date me?' Duo asked, sounding bemused. He shook his head. 'Do I get any say in this?'

'I'm asking you.'

'So, that's your idea of dating? Eating crappy pasta and then going home with a serious case of blue balls? I could probably pass on that.'

'The food wasn't that bad,' Trowa argued. 'But yeah, something like that. And I was hoping for a good night kiss maybe?' he suggested, and watched Duo's expression wobble, going from seriously brassed-off when he realised that Trowa was serious about turning him down to uncertainty and finally amusement. He looked at Trowa and plastered on one of those big shit-eating grins of his. The ones that usually got brought out as an accompaniment to an explosion.

'You think I'm the kind of guy who kisses on the first date?' he teased.

'I was hoping.'

'Live in hope, die in despair,' Duo said smartly. He did lower the window properly though, and leaned out. 'I dunno, Trowa. If I did put out a bit, would you respect me after? I'm a good Catholic boy, y'know.'

'No, you're not.'

'Lucky for you.'

It wasn't all that easy, kissing someone through a window. They managed though, if Trowa stooped a bit, and Duo leaned out further. It was just as good as the first time, in his office. He managed to get a hand around Duo's shoulders and slide it through his hair, and that was sinfully good, even if Duo did toss his head free when Trowa tied to pull the hair tie off.

'Don't get fresh, Barton. You like rules so much, there's one for you. No hair-touching on the first date.'

'On the second?'

'You'd better ask me and you'll find out.'

Trowa grinned. 'Want to do this again sometime?'

'Define this.' Duo leaned back out the window. 'Dinner? Necking in a car park?'

'Both of the above?' Trowa suggested. 'Or pick one.'

Duo turned the key in the ignition. 'I'm going to Russia for ten days. I'll think about it when I'm away. Maybe if nothing better comes up, I'll give you a call.' He was laughing, looking Trowa over. 'Go home, Trowa. Maybe take a cold shower or something.'


	3. Dating Duo

**Chapter 3 - :**

He doesn't see Duo for nearly two weeks after that. He takes a couple of cold showers, as per advice, thinking of the teasing gleam in Duo's eye; that kiss. He jerks off extravagantly afterwards, still thinking of it.

They exchange emails, mostly Duo bitching about the cold in Moscow, even in April, and sharing odd little snippets of his day. The buffet breakfast in his hotel; an old lady he talked to on the Metro; a little shop he found selling second-hand war memorabilia; the station commander who pretends he can't speak English and isn't at all abashed when Duo catches him reading an American novel. They're funny and vivid and he can just imagine Duo in all of the situations.

He doesn't quite mark the days 'til Duo's return off on his desk calendar, but he does find himself calculating. How many days; then the hours. His connecting flight from Paris is due to land at 17.00, and then it'll take an hour from the airport, and he has a briefing with Une at 18.30. No knowing how long that'll take. He might just want to go home and crash after; Trowa's suggested going for dinner but Duo hasn't really responded.

He gets a text when Duo's flight lands, then a couple sent while he's waiting for a taxi, and then the man in person, shrugging off a woollen overcoat as he walks through the door.

He sets the electronic lock with one hand, letting the coat fall to the floor in a puddle of dark grey wool, and starts loosening his tie with the other. In the handful of steps it takes him to reach the desk, he's shed tie, jacket, and has his shirt pulled out and partly unbuttoned.

Trowa's out of his chair by then, and meets him by the filing cabinet. It's the first time they've kissed with no barrier between them; there's the perfect press of Duo's body, and a hand sliding down his ass, and that gorgeous, generous mouth under his.

The sharp corner of the metal cabinet digging into his thigh brings him back to reality with a thud. Duo either has a couple of extra hands, or they have the gift of multi-location. There's a warm palm pressed against his right hip, and fingers curled around the back of his neck. Duo's shirt is torn off somehow, and Trowa's is hanging loose off one shoulder, his belt hanging off the last loop.

'Duo. Stop.'

The hand on his hip slides under his waistband, very light, a delicious dance of skin on skin. 'Oh, Trowa. I don't think you want me to stop. I really don't.' The fingers still, just for a second. 'Do you?'

This is such a bad fucking idea. He knows it, with every part of him that's logical and rational and capable of weighing up consequences. He can feel the imprint of Duo's fingers on him as if they're branded there. No one's taken the time to touch him there since Quatre, and Duo bloody Maxwell's unerringly found that one spot, just at the jut of his right hip, that somehow turns him to jelly.

The thought's enough to make him pull back, Duo's fingertips trailing against the curve of his hip as he moves.

'Duo. We're at work.'

It's ridiculously feeble and he knows it, and it gives Duo the perfect set up to strike back.

'We were at work last time. You didn't seem to care. Door's even locked this time.' He glances back and Trowa suddenly wonders how the hell Duo knew his security code.

Duo gives him a look. One of those fleeting looks, up through his lashes. The picture of sweetly wounded innocence. Yeah, right. As demurely innocent as the Kama fucking Sutra. 'You don't want me?'

'You know I do.'

'I do, sure.' He lets his gaze drop to Trowa's crotch. It's pretty damn unmistakable, the wanting.

'You're meeting the commander in half an hour.'

'Yeah? And? That's tonnes of time.' His tongue darts out, licks that lush lower lip. A gesture heady with promise. 'C'mon, Tro. You've got a pretty sturdy-looking desk. You don't want to bend me over it? Or I could suck you off.' He lets one hand stroke down his own very pronounced erection. 'I bet you'd be into that. You in that spiffy swivel chair, and me on my knees in front of you. I bet you'd really, really like that.'

'I said no.' It comes out with more force than he'd meant, and it's a precise measure of how much he wants it.

Duo's eyes darken, suddenly getting that Trowa is serious, isn't just playing hard to get. 'Not like you never screwed Quat over that fancy antique desk of his. I know you're into the whole office sex thing.'

Damn.

'Don't talk about him.'

'I'm never gonna measure up, am I?' Duo says, heavily laced with bitterness. 'Never be good enough for you? You don't want Heero's leftovers, is that it?'

'Duo.' Trowa almost reaches out to touch him and pulls back. Contact, right now, would not be a good idea. 'Just wait. OK? Listen. We talked about this.'

'Correction,' Duo says smartly. 'You talked about it. I don't remember getting much say in anything. But then I'm just some L2 slut, right? Good enough for a quick fuck once no one knows about it, but that's it?'

Duo's working himself into one of his rages, Trowa realizes. Like a toddler in a toy-store. He's seen him do it often enough with Heero, building up into a full-blown Maxwell explosion. He shakes his head and reaches for the jug of iced water on his side table.

Duo literally freezes for a moment, water streaming down his face, and a wedge of lemon lodged above his left ear. Then he lets out a squawk of pure outrage. The first swing goes wide, since he has a tangle of dripping hair in his eyes. Trowa dodges the next by a hair, close enough that Duo's fist glances off his shoulder, a blow that would probably have broken bone if it had connected.

Trowa grabs his wrists, grapples him against the wall. Duo's limp for a heartbeat, then brings up one knee, sharp and swift and intent on serious damage. Trowa ducks it easily enough. He'd been expecting something like that. These tactics maybe work on Heero, who still thinks there are rules in fighting, who spent most of the war running around fighting oh-so-honourable duels, but Trowa grew up in Duo's world. He can fight dirty if he has too.

He uses his whole body, the advantage of his greater weight, to pin Duo against the wall, catching Duo's wrists in one hand. 'Stop it. Just stop, Duo. You behave like a bratty kid throwing a tantrum, I'll treat you like one. You do _not_ just come in here and demand sex without even saying hello like I'm some cheap hooker. That's not the deal.

Duo goes slack against him, but there's an ugly, bitter twist to his mouth. 'So, what is the damn deal then, Barton? You buy me another few dinners and try to work out if I'm worth spending your valuable time on?'

'We get to know each other,' Trowa says levelly. 'Both of us. And then work out if there's enough between us to base a relationship on. Not just sex.'

'OK, I get it. You're a romantic. You want to do the dinner-and-movie stuff. Fine. It was nice, the other night. Us going out. But why not have the sex as well? I'm hot, you're hot, it's not like either of us is a virgin, so you'd hardly be deflowering me. We've already done it and I'm kind of a skank anyway.'

'Don't call yourself that!' It's not true, as far as Trowa knows. One ten-year relationship, and occasional random hook-ups just to piss Heero off. It's hardly a description of someone's who sexually promiscuous.

Duo shrugs. 'Why not? It's what you think about me, isn't it? Coming here and throwing myself at you like this? It's true anyway. Heero says it often enough. Never stopped him coming back for more though. Even if he hated himself for it.' The sneer is back, and it just looks _wrong_ on that lush, lovely mouth.

Duo shouldn't look like that, and Trowa suddenly hates Heero for whatever he's said that even the memory of it can turn Duo's expression so ugly.

'I'm not Heero.'

'Yeah. I get that. At least he was honest with me about what he wanted.' He pulls his hands free, and this time Trowa lets him.

Duo finds his shirt, mops his streaming face, and pulls it on before he looks at Trowa. 'I fucking _get_ it, all right? You had this perfect fairytale with Quat, and no other guy is ever going to come close, and 'specially not me. Fine. You know what? You're just the same as Heero. Well, screw you. I don't need to put up with your shit.'

Trowa grabs him as he stalks past, slams him into the wall. Duo lets him, just looks at him with that bitter curl to his mouth and a hard, blank look in his eyes, and Trowa suddenly wonders how often they've played this act out, Duo and Heero.

What happens next, with them, after they've got to this stage.

He has a pretty good idea.

He touches Duo's shoulder, just a light brush of his fingertips, but Duo flinches anyway.

'I'm sorry,' he says, very soft. 'Duo, I'm sorry. But, God, don't you ever listen to anything anyone ever says to you? _Yes_ , I want to fuck you. You know that damn well, but I don't want it like this, not like the last time.'

'Oh, yeah,' Duo sneers. 'I know what you said. Forgettable, right? Thanks a fucking lot, Barton. Don't remember you complaining at the time. You got off. I remember that. Didn't have any problem sticking it up my ass then. Once was enough to play in the gutter, is that it? You're too good for me now? '

'What I _said_ ,' Trowa grates out, 'was that the sex was forgettable. Yeah, I came. I could've done that much myself. I prefer a little more than that.'

Duo shakes his head, sending drops of water flying over the pile of documents on Trowa's desk. 'Memo to Barton. The whole _point_ is getting off. What the hell else do you want?' he hisses. 'Four-poster beds? Candles? Fucking flower petals?'

Trowa blinks. There's no way Duo can know any of that. Except…He and Quatre had been best friends since their first meeting and he can imagine Quatre breathlessly confiding secrets. It's horrifying, the thought of Duo and Quat exchanging sex stories.

'That's not what I meant.' He leans in, close enough to that his mouth is almost touching Duo's ear. 'The sex was pretty forgettable. You weren't. I've been thinking about you ever since. I've been thinking about what I want to do to you. I'm going to fuck you, Duo Maxwell, 'til you think you've never been done before,' he breathes, low and raw and filthy. 'I'm going to make you scream my name, and beg for it, and then maybe, _maybe_ , when I'm through with doing all the things I've got planned, I might even let you come. But I want to have an actual bed, and a whole night, and probably the next couple of days, and seriously, you are going to have to take a week off because you won't be able to sit down 'til then but then if I get to keep you at home there's no way I'll be able to keep from screwing you, so it's just going to be this whole vicious circle going on for ever.' He croons the last bit, watching Duo's colour rise, his eyes darken, not with anger this time. He's biting his lips, one fist clenched in his damp shirt.

'So. That's what I've got planned for you, Duo. Not just a quick fuck in my office.' He just has to lean in a fraction to press his mouth to that little place where the curl of Duo's ear flows into his jaw-line. 'Not when you're due in Une's office in ten minutes.'

'Oh, shit.' Duo mutters, his voice not entirely steady. 'Seriously, Barton? You say all that stuff and then you send me off to the Commander?'

'Life sucks,' Trowa teases, sucking Duo's lobe into his ear. Damn. This whole situation is going to kill him. It's like trying to walk a wild puma on a leash. 'Off you go, Maxwell, like a good little agent. I'll buy you dinner when you're done.'

'Dinner, huh?' Duo bends his head, starting to button up his shirt. 'That the best offer I'm going to get?'

'On a weeknight.'

'Crap. Fuck it,' Duo says, apparently referring not to dinner but the fact that most of the buttons have disappeared. 'You tore my damn shirt. How the hell am I supposed to go to the Commander's office like this?'

He has a point, Trowa realises. His hair is still plastered to his skull, seal-sleek, and several shades darker than normal. The shirt, as well as being absent most of its buttons, is damp where he used it to dry his face. There's a raspberry-red, heart-shaped hickey just under the flare of his left collarbone, vivid against the pale skin. Trowa can't even remember giving him that, but he wants to put one on the other side, just for symmetry's sake. Wants to bite and lick every inch of him until he's covered with Trowa's marks.

He still has water droplets coursing down his chest. One, particularly tenacious, is clinging to his left nipple and it's impossible not to lean forward and lap at it. Duo tenses and gives a little moan, so of course he has to do it again, and this time Duo's whole body goes rigid.

'God, you're sensitive there,' he breathes, kissing the little pink bud and adding just the faintest pressure of teeth and Duo cries out. Surely, _surely_ , Heero or someone has done this for him, but you'd never guess it, the way he's reacting. If he and Duo survive long enough to make it to the sex, if they'd don't kill each other first, or die of sexual frustration, he's never going to let Duo out of bed.

Never.

He kisses his way across Duo's chest, and up, fitting his lips to the curve of his throat and then looks up. Duo's eyes are half-closed and entirely glazed over and as Trowa's mouth presses against him, he throws his head back.

Duo Maxwell, actually submissive and pliant for what's probably the first time in his life.

Who'd have thought it?

He's gorgeous like that, just like that. Trowa brushes his lips across Duo's check, very sweet, and then just looks at him, wanting to remember this moment.

Duo's lashes flutter open and he flips Trowa the finger. 'What the hell are you staring at?'

Trowa grins. 'You know, you could probably lose the citrus.' He reaches out and retrieves the lemon slice from Duo's other ear, presenting it to him like a conjuror doing a cheap trick.

Duo just glares. 'You ever pull anything like that again, I'll burst you.'

'Then you'd better start behaving yourself.'

'You're so up yourself, Barton, it's not fucking true.'

Trowa leans in and kisses the frown on those swollen lips. 'Come on. Let's get you tidied up a bit.'

He finds a towel in his gym bag; a couple of elastics for Duo's hair, and the spare shirt he keeps in the back of the filing cabinet, and sits on the desk to watch Duo do running repairs. The green of the shirt doesn't suit him, and clashes with his tie, but he's presentable at least.

'You'll do,' Trowa decides, looking him over. 'Call me when you're done, OK? We can talk over dinner.'

It took three hours before he got Duo's text that he was done. A bit overlong for what Trowa had assumed was a fairly routine briefing and it occurred to him to wonder if Duo had dragged it out, a little flare of revenge. Duo just looked preoccupied and a bit annoyed about something, though, when he walked into the parking garage, so maybe not.

They didn't talk in the car. Duo just nodded to Trowa's suggestion of Chinese, and then flicked on the radio. In the restaurant, they got one of the corner booths, and talked a little bit about food, and Duo seemed to snap out of whatever had been bothering him.

'So, how was Moscow?' Trowa asked. 'The case you were working on?'

Duo shrugged. 'Classified shit. Fucking politics.'

'Talk about it?' Trowa wasn't overly surprised; _something_ had happened in Une's office to cause this mood.'

'I _said_. It's classified.'

'I won't tell anyone.'

'I know,' Duo allowed and suddenly gave him a small, faint smile. 'Thanks, Tro. Maybe some other time. I just don't really want to talk about it right now. I hate my fucking job sometimes.'

'I liked your emails,' he offered. 'Funny.'

Of all things, it made Duo flush, just a little. 'They were just dumb things I wrote when I was bored.' He filched a piece of sesame toast from Trowa's plate and bit in with a loud crunch. 'You didn't have to read them. Moscow was, I dunno. Cold, mostly.' He gave an exaggerated shiver. 'Didn't have much time to go sightseeing. I got up early a couple of mornings to walk 'round a bit. That was nice. Saw the Kremlin. You been there?'

'Once. Years ago. Just for a weekend.'

It had been in January, snow thick on the ground. He'd been with Quatre, naturally. They'd had a snowball fight in front of the Kremlin. They'd been eighteen and rapturously in love, and the whole world had spread out before them as their personal playground. He'd been utterly enraptured by everything. The blazing splendour of the buildings; the gleam of light on snow: Quatre's dazzling smile. After, at their hotel, he'd laid Quat, still red-cheeked from the cold, on the rug by the fireside. It had still been new enough, then, that Quatre had given a little cry of almost-pain when Trowa pressed into him; new enough for Trowa to imagine the earth shifting beneath them.

He'd been a damn naive idiot at eighteen. Enough to believe that the universe would allow someone like him to keep the shining golden prince. That wasn't how it worked.

'It was cold, yeah,' he muttered. Duo, busy munching his way through the toast to notice, apparently hadn't noticed anything.

'Yeah,' Duo echoed and snagged a second triangle of toast. 'These are good.'

Trowa wrapped an arm protectively around his plate, not entirely sure of Duo's mood, of what was going on with them. Maybe he'd gone too far, too fast, but then Duo was the one who'd pretty much tried to jump him, and he didn't seem angry, exactly. A bit off balance, maybe. Not like someone who'd been half-naked in Trowa's arms a few hours ago. Or, it was Duo, he amended. He was just avoiding it. Typical. 'Order your own.'

'Tastes better off someone else's plate,' Duo said brightly. 'Plus, I'm starving.'

When their mains came, he promptly snagged a forkful of Trowa's chicken, adding it to his own steaming pile of noodles. In retaliation, Trowa staged a sneaky chopstick attack, and won a chunk of salmon.

'You really don't mind, do you?' he asked, sounding intrigued. 'Me nicking your food.'

Trowa shrugged. 'Not 'specially. We can order more. Here.' He picked up another slice of chicken, and held it out.

Duo hesitated for just the tiniest fraction of a second, and then took the mouthful, giving the chopsticks some pretty good head in the process, and flicking his tongue against Trowa's finger. 'Tasty.'

Trowa grinned at him. 'Very.'

Duo scooped up a heap of noodles and swallowed. 'So, what? You into the whole food sex thing?'

'Not so much. Why? You offering to cover yourself in whipped cream and melted chocolate?'

'Just asking. Always seems like a waste of food.'

'Depends on what you do with it.' Trowa winked and got a kick under the table. Hard, right on his ankle bone.

'You're weird sometimes.'

'So I'm told.'

'Yeah, I'll bet you are,' Duo muttered.

'Must be true then,' Trowa said amiably. 'Just for the record, if you did want to try out experimenting with the whole food sex thing, I wouldn't be averse.'

'Bet there's not much you're averse to,' Duo said darkly.

'Not if it feels good, no.'

Duo just snorted at that, and went back to demolishing his mountain of food.

'Duo? Are you OK?'

'Just jet lag catching up. Couple of all-nighters in Moscow, getting up to speed on the case. Didn't sleep on the 'plane. I'm kind of wrecked.'

Trowa nudged his foot under the table. 'And are we OK?'

'What, since you basically said you want to tie me up in your sex dungeon and work out every fantasy you've ever had on me 'til I can't walk straight?'

'I don't actually think that was what I said.'

'It was pretty much the subtext.' He slurped up another forkful of noodles. 'I kind of wasn't expecting all that. I don't know, Trowa.'

'I wasn't planning to do any of it tonight, if that helps at all.'

'Just as well. I'd probably fall asleep on you.'

'I can almost guarantee you wouldn't do that. I'm fairly sure I could manage to keep you awake.' Damn, for someone who usually showed every passing thought like a banner, it was impossible to know what he was thinking.

It didn't help that their waiter turned up just then, collecting their plates and offering dessert menus.

'You want something?'

Duo shook his head. 'I'm stuffed. Tea, maybe. Unless you're offering something a bit more…personal?'

'Define personal.' He was grinning suddenly. OK, they weren't exactly back on track, and Duo was obviously prepared to turn somersaults to avoid talking about them, but it suddenly felt all right, like the distance of the past couple of hours had lessened.

'Um, kind of like this?' Duo closed the physical distance between them by sliding around the seat. 'This is personal.' The hand started out innocuously enough, sliding up Trowa's arm, then started to move downwards, slow and inexorable as snow shifting on a mountain. 'Oh, _very_ personal,' Duo murmured approvingly. 'Nice. Want me to take care of that for you, Tro? I could, y'know. Could just get under the table, and open your pants and suck you off. No one'd know. Just you and me.'

Trowa caught his breath. He didn't actually think he'd ever come so close to coming in his life, just from another man's voice, and the light press of Duo's hand on him. 'Duo. _God_.'

'You don't have to call me that,' Duo breathed. There was one last squeeze of those fingers and then he pulled away, shifting back to his own place, a wholly evil grin on his face. 'Not much fun when someone gets you all wound up and then leaves you hanging, is it, Barton?'

Trowa considered his options, rejected dragging Duo under the table as a sure way to get banned from one of his favourite restaurants, and burst out laughing.


	4. To the Lighthouse

**Chapter 4 – To the Lighthouse:**

'So,' Trowa cradled the 'phone under his ear, using both hands to drain his pasta. It had become a bit of a ritual over the past couple of weeks, having an evening chat with Duo. Never anything too heavy; just swapping stories about their day and a bit of joking around that just skimmed the borders of flirting. He didn't think they'd ever actually had any kind of deep conversation. Then again, he and Quat had spent years on the life-and-death, soul-searching stuff and what good had it done them in the end? 'Any plans for the weekend?'

'Yeah, looking at a couple of apartments first thing tomorrow. About time I got out of 'Fei's hair, really. Nothing much on otherwise. He's got Blondie coming over for dinner, so I guess I'll be making myself scarce. Don't want to walk in on them again. I'm still traumatised.'

Trowa laughed. 'You've seen naked guys before.'

'Not Chang, I haven't. Not doing stuff like that.'

'You can come over here for a bit if you want,' Trowa offered, putting the pot back on the gas. 'It's meant to be a nice day; we could go to the beach or something.'

'Sure,' Duo said easily. 'What time? You want to text me your address or am I going to have to hack your file?'

Trowa started to stir in the spaghetti sauce. 'You know where I live, Duo. You've been here.'

'Nope, actually. I was at that apartment you used to have, not the place you're in now.'

Trowa frowned; he was pretty sure that wasn't true, but a quick search of his memories didn't throw up any images of Duo. Heero and Wufei, sure; they'd helped him move in, and Wufei had helped with some of the earlier renovation work, and he'd had them both over for dinner a few times. No Duo. Odd. He was sure he'd asked him, or at least included him in some Heero-and-Duo invitations. 'OK, I'll text you. Come whenever. I'll be around all day.'

Duo turned up at ten, his jeep rattling over the dirt road. Seven storeys above, Trowa watched him manoeuvre his way through the boulders lining the track and pull up by Trowa's truck.

He gave Duo a couple of minutes just to look around; he always liked seeing people's reactions. The few people he brought out here, anyway. 'Up here,' he called down, and Duo's head jerked up. 'Door's open.'

'Holy shit,' Duo enthused when he burst through the door. 'I knew you lived near the sea, not that you actually lived in it.'

Trowa grinned, not bothering to stand up. 'You should be here when there's a storm.'

'Freaking amazing, I'll bet,' Duo said, looking around. 'This place is so cool. The way Quat talked about it, it was just a heap of stones.'

Trowa tried for a tight little smile. 'He was only here once, just after I bought it. It pretty much was a heap of stones back then.'

A disaster, that particular weekend had been. Naturally. Taking Quatre Winner, who liked his creature comforts, to stay in a tumble-down building which had been derelict for several decades, which lacked heat or light or running water. He'd thought it would be an adventure though. Candlelight and cooking over a camp stove and having to cuddle together to stay warm in front of an open fire. Like during the war, just the two of them.

Quatre, fresh from his over-heated mansion on L4 and a regiment of servants to coddle him, had been utterly miserable, had spent the three days huddling under every blanket that Trowa possessed.

He hadn't repeated the invitation, had thanked Quat politely for the offer of an introduction to an award-winning architectural firm which specialised in renovating unusual properties, and spent nearly two years working on the place himself.

He'd never asked Quatre back, having learned that particular lesson, had let Quat be the one to choose where they were to meet up after that.

'I think it's great.' Duo was half over the balcony rail, leaning out as far as he could. 'You must have put in a lot of work, huh?'

'I had help. A couple of guys from the circus, whenever it was in town, and 'Fei used to help out a lot, before he hooked up with Zechs. Haven't seen him so much since.'

Duo snickered. 'Yeah. I'll bet Zechsy keeps him pretty busy. God, Trowa. I've got, like, this image burned on my eyes, of the two of them.'

'OK.' Trowa put down the paintbrush he'd been holding and stood up. 'Seriously. You have got to tell me what the hell you walked in on.'

''Fei'd kill me.'

'Fei'd never know. C'mon.' He gave Duo a light kiss on one corner of his mouth, then nosed along his jaw to nuzzle at that place behind his ear. Duo smelled great; no fancy, foofy toiletries, just whatever shower gel he'd used that morning. His earlobe was temptingly close, so Trowa went in for a quick nibble. 'Spill, Maxwell.'

'Oh, fuck.' Duo shuddered as Trowa's teeth closed around his lobe. 'Yeah, OK, fine. God. But I'll kill you if you tell him I said. They were on the couch; the one where I'm sleeping.'

His fair skin was suddenly awash with bright colour. Trowa had never seen him blush like that. Interesting. Whatever Merquise had been doing, he'd have to try it out.

He got his next words out in a rush. ''Fei had his tongue up Merquise's ass, Tro. Seriously. I mean, I didn't know people even _did_ that, outside of porn movies.'

'Oh, they do,' Trowa murmured silkily. It beggared belief, that Heero had had Duo in his bed for all those years and apparently never done anything beyond the most basic getting off.

' _Seriously_? You?'

Trowa nodded. Seriously, he'd have to work on getting Duo to blush more often. It was gorgeous, that extra colour. He wondered how far down it went. 'We'll have to try it, one of these days.'

Duo took a step back, looking tempted and aroused and uncertain all at once. 'It's kind of kinky, no?'

'Rimming? Nope. It's good. Bet 'Fei and Zechs looked like they were having fun. What did you do?'

'Ran the hell out of there,' Duo grinned at him. 'Came back at three in the morning, they were in bed. Haven't mentioned it since.'

'God, you're adorable.' Trowa kissed him properly then, tasting sea-spray on his lips.

'How many dates are we up to now?' Duo asked not-quite-absently, mouth red and swollen and far too bloody addictive. 'Must be pretty much into double figures, no?'

'Probably.' He wasn't sure himself. There'd been the official dates; a couple more dinners, and a movie, not that either of them had got to see much of it, and the previous Friday night they'd had Mexican food and a few games of pool after where they'd done their best to slaughter each other. The best night Trowa had had in however long he could remember. There had also been a few casual lunches and coffee breaks at work, and a fairly heated few minutes in the photocopy room, and one or two interesting sessions in Duo's jeep. His resolution to keep full sex out of the frame was still more-or-less intact, but definitely well-frayed at the edges. 'Is that significant?'

'Just saying, Tro.'

Damn. It just wasn't _fair_ how he could put on that butter-wouldn't-melt expression and combine it with looking like a freshly-debauched fallen angel. Damn it to hell, anyway.

Duo gave him a knowing little grin. 'So, what's the plan for today?'

Trowa cleared his throat, very deliberately. Cleared his mind of all those invasive fantasies of dragging Duo downstairs and tying him to the bed. Well, he tried to, at least. 'I just need to finish up painting the railings here. Shouldn't take long. Sorry, I didn't think you'd get here so early, or I wouldn't have started. Then I'll give you a tour around and we can decide.'

'Cool,' Duo said easily, apparently happy to go along with the lack of definite plans. 'But I can help if you've got a spare brush.'

'You don't need to.'

'It's fine, honest. I like stuff like this.'

Trowa shrugged, rummaging in his tool box for an extra brush. 'Well, if you're sure.'

They started to work in opposite directions around the sides. Duo obviously knew what he was doing, careful sweeps of is brush with no dripping, and he was an oddly unexacting companion, making an occasional comment about the view, or the seagulls swooping over them, but otherwise apparently engrossed in his task. Nothing like the annoying attention-junkie he was most of the time.

Like he was around Heero, Trowa realised abruptly, fighting incessantly for Heero to notice him.

If you took Heero out of the equation, he was perfectly good company.

'So, what's this place called anyway?' Duo asked.

Trowa just looked at him. 'A lighthouse. Don't you know that?'

'Asshole.' Trowa dodged as Duo flicked paint at him. 'Seriously. This part here, the platform or whatever it is.'

'It's called the lantern gallery.' He gestured to the glassed-in room behind him. 'That's the lantern room in there. It's where the lamp used to be, when the place was a working lighthouse.'

'But you don't have it any more?' Duo stood up, peering through the glass.

Trowa shook his head. 'It was removed when the place was decommissioned, years ago. I've been trying to find a replacement, but they're not the sort of thing you can just pick up anywhere, and I'd probably never be allowed to turn it on anyway.'

'Be cool though. I mean, it's amazing anyway, having your own private lighthouse. How d'you ever find it?'

'Purely by accident. I was out hiking,' he waved an arm inland. 'It's all national park along the shore, you know, and I guess I took a wrong trail and ended up on the beach, down there a bit. I saw this tower thing about a mile away, and came over to see what it was. Found an old 'For sale' sign and that was that.'

'Wow,' Duo marvelled. 'Serendipitous.' He grinned at Trowa's expression. 'What? I'm not supposed to know long words?'

'You mostly seem to prefer the four-letter versions.' He suddenly thought of something. 'Hey, how did your house-hunting go?'

'Pretty _meh_ ,' Duo made a face at him. 'No, actually, it totally sucked. I just wanted to have a look at what was out there, you know. Some options. I've never done anything like this before. Ended up spending over an hour in the office on paperwork. Credit ratings and references and shit. And then when we did get to go do some viewings, they were all crap. Like, family houses in the suburbs or massive penthouses or whatever. I mean, I'd asked for a small studio in the city centre, and the only one that was anything like I'd asked for was pretty much a broom closet in some industrial estate.'

'Well, estate agents do that,' Trowa told him. 'Show you somewhere shit, and then take you to some really nice places after. They're figuring out how much you have to spend.' He couldn't help wondering that himself. Duo had to be making at least as much as he was, and he presumably had money stashed from the war. No reason why he couldn't afford better than a studio.

'Yeah, I guess,' Duo said glumly. 'Anyway, we talked a bit more about what I wanted, and I've got some more places to see on Wednesday. What should I do, just take the first place that's halfway decent?'

'Take a decent place that's got a short-term lease,' Trowa advised. 'You can usually find places that are being sub-let for a couple of months. That'll give you time to look around properly. And you don't have to rush into moving, do you? 'Fei's not going to throw you out on the streets.'

'No,' Duo grinned at him. 'I wouldn't blame him if he did; it's got to be cramping his style, having a houseguest, but he's been amazing. Won't let me pay rent or anything. Anyway, that's pretty helpful, what you said. I can do that.' He pursed his lips, considering. 'I never thought it'd be this hard. When Heero was buying his house, he set up this computer programme with all his specifications, and triangulated the locations he wanted to be close to, and then just bought the first place that came up on the internet and matched what he wanted, but I wanted to actually see a place before moving in, you know?'

'Sure. You didn't have any say in picking the house, seriously?'

'Huh?' Duo gave him a look of surprise. 'It was his place, not mine.'

'You were going to be living there.'

'Huh,' Duo said again, very flat. 'You give Quat any say in buying this place?'

Point and match, Trowa thought sourly. He had thought about Quat. Of course he had. Quat liked old buildings, the sea. And since he was so damn hung up on playing the straight, married guy, a remote lighthouse would be a good, discreet place for them to meet up. Except, just maybe, subconsciously he'd known Quatre wouldn't like it all. He wasn't sure what that meant.

'Sorry,' Duo muttered, and then launched into a volley of questions about when and why the lighthouse had been decommissioned, and how much Trowa had had to do to restore it. 'Ta da,' he proclaimed almost half an hour later, flourishing his brush in Trowa's face as they met in front of the door. 'So, you planning to pay me for all the manual labour?'

'I was going to make you lunch in a bit,' Trowa suggested. 'Maybe a beer?'

'But I had a massive breakfast, so I'm not hungry. And I'm driving so I can't drink. Any other offers on the table?'

'How about this?' Duo was crouching just a few inches across from him; he just had to incline his head. He'd forgotten how good kissing can be, with someone you liked, someone who wasn't not just a random pick-up in a bar, intent on getting laid without any of the niceties.

'Yeah, that works,' Duo admitted finally, and Trowa preened himself that he sounded more than a bit breathless. 'Jeez, Tro. We have totally got to rethink this stupid celibacy thing before I die of sexual frustration.'

'I know the very thing to take care of this,' Trowa purred, sliding one hand around Duo's neck and reeling him in again, his other hand sliding down Duo's side, and resting on the very pronounced bulge in his jeans. 'A nice swim in the lovely cold water.'

'In _that_?' Duo turned his head, looking at the churning waves below them. 'I'm not actually that good a swimmer, you know. You want to drown me?'

'Definitely not. There's a little cove about a mile along the shore. Very sheltered. Fancy it?'

'I know what the hell I'm fancying right now,' Duo groused, 'and it's not a swim. But yeah, whatever. Either that or a cold shower.' He stretched, throat thrown back, pelvis slightly thrust out above those long legs in tight denim, knowing exactly what he looked like and exploiting the hell out of it. 'Look, Tro. I know you made Quat wait for bloody years, but I don't have that sort of patience. Just so you know.'

'I didn't _make_ him,' Trowa muttered. It had been lack of opportunity as much as anything; there had been a war on, and Quatre had had his own bloody army of heavily-armed chaperones, each and every one of whom was determined to keep them apart. That, and the fact that Quat, at fifteen, had been a shining miracle. Trowa had been utterly terrified of doing anything that might hurt or frighten him, hadn't wanted their first time to be a hurried fuck in some grotty safe-house or the cockpit of one of the Gundams.

And then Quat had almost got himself killed, courtesy of Dorothy Catalonia, and there'd been months in hospital, and that convalescent home after, and then trying to settle into normal life, studying, working their way up to a proper relationship.

'Hello!' Duo snapped his fingers in Trowa's face, startling him out of his favourite fantasy.

It was too cold, in Sanc, in April; nothing like the tropical heat in the Caribbean, but the sound of the waves was about right.

'Jesus!' Duo snapped. 'I'll bet you even think about him when you're screwing other guys.'

'No.' He shifted a few feet away, hair falling over his face, as he muttered the lie, but it was pretty obvious that Duo didn't believe him anyway.

'Yeah, _right_.'

'I didn't, with you.' That was true, as it happened, even if Duo didn't believe it. The first and only time he'd ever been with anyone and not thought of Quatre Winner.

There'd been only Duo.

'Yeah, OK,' Duo said quietly, looking at him. 'Come on. Let's go and see this beach of yours. You can give me the tour on the way down. I've never been in a lighthouse before.'

He didn't say much as they walked down the first three flights of the spiral staircase, just glanced quickly into the circular room on each floor. It was probably the longest Trowa had ever known him not to talk.

'So?'

Duo shrugged. 'It's very different. Minimalist. You know, other people have this thing called furniture. And stuff like paintings and, I don't know, plants, maybe.'

'I do have furniture.' Not a lot, granted, but he'd both the necessary things, and a few people from work had passed on cast-off items, and there were a few odds and ends that Cathy and Quatre had given him. 'And I don't like clutter.'

'Yeah, that's pretty obvious, Tro. I do sort of get why Quat was worried about you moving in here.'

'It's none of his business how I live.'

' _Trowa's tower,' he'd said softly, just before Trowa had driven him to the airport, back to his reality. 'You're not going to shut yourself totally away, are you?'_

'Well, it's great here, but it is kind of … bleak,' Duo said, clearly choosing his words with care. 'I mean, even Heero said so, and he's not exactly Mr. Home Comforts, but we, ah, he does have electricity at home. And a bathroom.'

'I have solar panels,' Trowa said defensively, and then wondered why the hell he cared what Duo thought. Or Heero. It was none of their business. None of anyone's. 'And the bathroom's in one of the outhouses downstairs.'

Duo just grinned at him, the idiot, not a bit fazed by his tone. 'All the way down? Shit. What d'you do in a storm? Piss out the window?'

'Once or twice.'

The grin, impossibly, widened. 'Cool. Bet you have to check the wind direction first though. I tried that in 'Scythe once; not a good idea in a gale, seriously.'

Trowa laughed. 'I'll bet. Seriously, I haven't got around to doing anything with the top floors yet; I've just been using them for store-rooms. The rooms below us are furnished.'

'What, like with actual furniture and stuff?' Duo teased. 'This I've got to see. So, what's down on the next floor?'

He was off before Trowa could answer, standing in Trowa's bedroom before he caught up. It was probably the best-furnished room in the place. His bed, and a carved wooden chest at the foot, and a couple of things actually hung on the walls. A hand-painted bamboo scroll Wufei had given him as a house-warming present, of a Chinese junk under full sail, and the painting that Quatre had bought him, years ago.

'So.' Duo took a long look around. 'This is where all the action happens, huh? Barton seduction central?'

'I don't bring people home.' He said it lightly enough but the words hung in the air anyway.

'OK.' Duo leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. 'Don't think you can say that anymore. It's nice here,' he approved, and then crossed over to sit on the mattress. 'Ooh. Bouncy. _Very_ nice.' He gave Trowa one of those sly little smiles and then tilted his head back to look at the painting on the wall behind him. 'Shit. Is that for real?'

'It's genuine, if that's what you mean.'

It was pretty stupid, probably, keeping a genuine Gaugin in a damp, crumbling building and he did sometimes think about lending it to a gallery or something, but it was his, and Quatre had given it to him seven years before, along with a promise. The promise was broken, but he'd kept the painting.

Duo let himself fall back on the mattress, then rolled over, pulling a pillow from the headboard and propping his chin on it. 'Seriously, Tro. I want to marry this bed.' He was smiling. People who didn't know him at all said that Duo smiled all the time, but it was mostly teasing smirks, or that knowing jester's grin, or smiles full of measured, calculated charm, with a mission behind them.

This was different; open, winsome, _happy_.

'It's already taken,' Trowa told him. He knew exactly how Duo felt though; he loved his bed. It was one of his extravagances, along with his sinfully luxurious leather couch and a few fancy kitchen appliances. The bed was Danish and had some sort of body-conforming mattress, and he'd blued a couple of pay cheques on bed linen worthy of it; Egyptian sheets with an astronomical thread count, just because he'd got spoilt after all those years with Quatre. 'I could maybe agree to some sort of open relationship. If you're at all interested.'

'You know I am.' His gaze was very direct. 'Wasn't entirely sure you were. You've been all over the place since that first time. Talk about mixed signals! Couldn't work out if you wanted me or not.'

'I just wanted you to want it. Me. Not because you were pissed with Heero, or having a shitty day or whatever.'

'Well, I do. Want you.'

He hadn't even remembered moving but he was suddenly beside the bed.

'That's all I had to do?' Duo queried, looking amused. 'Lie on your bed and smile at you.'

'Pretty much, yeah,' Trowa muttered. 'Turn over,'

'I just knew you'd be the bossy type in bed.' He obeyed though; flipping himself over and lying back on the pillow with his hands behind his head. God, maybe it was because he'd made a damn career out of being mouthy and contrary and non-compliant that it was such a turn on when he suddenly – just complied.

'I'm not even in bed yet.'

'I _know_ ,' Duo said silkily. 'So much to look forward to. You planning on doing anything sometime soon, or you just gonna stand there and look?'

And then he suddenly knew exactly where he wanted to start. He reached for the top button of Duo's shirt, fumbling it just a little because his hands weren't entirely steady. The inverted triangle of creamy skin was smooth, flawless, no trace of the mark he'd left there a few days ago. He laced kisses down Duo's throat, his mouth dancing against Duo's skin, and then let his teeth rasp against the collarbone, making Duo's breath hitch before sealing his lips to the precise spot he'd marked before, and sucking. Duo went still for a heartbeat, and then moaned, low and wanting and utterly filthy, and Trowa suddenly had two sets of very insistent fingers at his belt buckle.

' Don't. Duo, just let me. Please. I want to do this, OK?'

Duo smiled winningly up at him. 'So, you're asking my permission to freaking worship me? Tro, bring it on.'

'This.' Trowa grasped the hem of his shirt. 'Off. Now.'

Duo sat up just enough for them both to tug it over his head; by a happy accident, the hair tie somehow came off at the same time. Loose, his hair was longer than Trowa had expected; a shining cascade of every imaginable shade of brown, with metallic glints of copper and bronze sparking when Duo tossed his head and it caught the sunlight. It was glorious, and the perfect length to wrap both hands around it, and pull Duo closer to have his mouth again, and somehow drag their clothes off without breaking the kiss, and then lie him back on the mattress, and let his mouth move gradually south.

He took the scenic route on the way down, thinking of it as a preliminary incursion into _ almost – unexplored territory, mapping out all the places that would warrant a more in-depth exploration later, but this time he had his eye on the main prize; he wanted Duo in his mouth, to taste him, to hear what sort of sounds he made when he came.

He took it slowly, pulling back a little every now and then - he wanted Duo begging and moaning, not to give him a heart attack - and the way he was acting he'd never had a decent blow job before – and waited for the trail of obscenities – _fuck, Jesus, fucking hell, just fucking do it_ – to peter off into little moans and gasps and whimpers – _Trowa, please, Tro, please, I'm dying here, please_.

'Worth waiting for?' He asked after, trying not to smirk because that would be just plain rude. Anyway, he knew how it had to have been.

'Shit, no,' Duo said emphatically. We could've been doing this for weeks. All that time wasted. Anyway, I wanted you to fuck me.'

'Demanding sod.' Trowa covered his mouth, kissed him deeply. 'Next round, OK? That was just the warm-up act.'

'Oh, yeah,' Duo crooned, 'I could go for that. So, my turn now, yeah?' He flipped them both over and gave Trowa a leer. 'Oh, nice view from up here. Let's see if it's any better close up.' He took his damn time about it; it took Trowa a minute to realise he was exactly mimicking what Trowa had just done to him, all those teasing little nips and licks and bites, and then gave him a wicked little grin and swallowed him whole. Giving blowjobs was presumably he'd practised a lot, something Heero presumably liked, because he was incredible.

When he was finished, Duo sat up and wiped one hand across his mouth, ineffably smug. 'Worth waiting for, Barton?'

'God, yeah.' He tugged Duo down on top of him, liking the feel of all that hair drifting against his skin, remembering how it had felt when Duo went down on him, those silken strands falling over the most sensitive parts of him.

Duo chuckled, one hand slipping between their bodies. 'Someone's getting to ready to play again. You ready for the main event, Tro?'

'You're so demanding,' Trowa mock-grumbled. He gave Duo a hard kiss, and leaned over him to rummage in his bedside drawer for lube. 'Condoms?'

Duo grinned. 'Bit late for that after the last time, no?' He shrugged. 'Unless you want to? Heero used to. I prefer doing it without them anyway. No point licking a lollipop when it's still got the wrapper on.'

'Me too.' Quatre had liked using them mostly, just to keep the mess to a minimum. 'Roll over. On your stomach.'

'Just knew you were dying to get to be all masterful,' Duo said. He did it though, craning his neck to look behind him. 'So, get a move on then. Or d'you need me to draw you a fucking diagram?'

'A _fucking_ diagram,' Trowa echoed amused. 'That's appropriate. No, I know what to do.'

He'd planned this; he'd been fantasising ever since that first time of how it could be, between them. Longer than that, if he was totally honest. It wasn't like he'd never looked at Duo and just wondered. It was what guys did. Wondered what it would be like to take Duo and screw all the stroppiness and attitude out of him until he didn't know his own name, until he was sated and smiling and glowing, the way he'd never quite looked with Heero.

He'd planned just how he wanted it to be.

Of course, the one thing he'd left out of all his calculations was Duo himself. Quat had always been more than content just to lie there, all but purring with pleasure at Trowa's devotions, but Duo was the sort who reached out and grabbed at chances himself, rather than waiting for the world to be laid adoringly at his feet.

Just prepping him properly was a damn challenge. That shouldn't have been a surprise, since Duo was always about the immediate gratification. The first couple of times he tried to hurry things along, Trowa just pressed him back to the bed, and kissed the back of his neck, but the third time, he gave Duo's ass a swat with his free hand, and Duo muttered something about domestic violence and twisted around to gave Trowa a baleful glare.

'Behave yourself,' Trowa said calmly, and then added a third finger and twisted them, looking for _that_ place, and Duo practically launched off the bed.

'Oh, Jesus, Tro! I don't think I can take much more of this.'

'It'll make it better, just wait.' He stilled his fingers, deep inside Duo, and bent down to kiss his bare shoulder, trying to calm himself as much as Duo. He didn't think he'd ever wanted anything this much, and the fact that Duo quite clearly wanted it just as much was the ultimate turn-on. And he was gorgeous; all Trowa's fantasies, except way better. Just as sparky and passionate in bed as he was everywhere else, and that fucking perfect body – utterly, _fuckably_ perfect – and the _hair_ , and the way his hips arched up to meet the press of Trowa's fingers.

'Shh,' he murmured, pulling out and turning Duo over to face him. 'You OK? You ready?'

'Been ready for bloody hours, you sadistic pervert,' Duo retorted. 'Oh, _God_.'

All his good intentions lasted precisely until the moment when Duo tilted his body upwards to meet him. In fairness, it had been months, if you discounted those few minutes in the locker room, and he'd been thinking about having Duo ever since. He did try to make it last as long as possible, but he was only human and he did have Duo Maxwell under him, and he didn't think he'd ever come so hard in his life, with just enough presence of mind to slide one hand around Duo's waist and help him find his own completion.

After, he just had enough energy to lie there, collapsed on top of Duo, utterly spent. Just enough energy to wrap one hand in the silken river of Duo's hair, and kiss whatever skin happened to be in reach.

At least, he'd finally found an effective way to keep that smart, overly active mouth quiet. Duo was breathing heavily but he had the fingers of one hand entwined with Trowa's, and he looked beyond happy, quite uncaring of the fact that he was a leaky, sloppy mess. Quatre had always wanted to clean up immediately afterwards. Trowa had told himself that it was just Quat, that he was finicky and fastidious and it was just the way he was, but there had always been just a tiny sting, that Quat was so keen to wash off the evidence of them being together.

Duo, quite plainly, didn't care.

'OK?'

'It was all right.' Just a faint ripple of humour in Duo's voice, but he pressed Trowa's fingers just that bit tighter.

'Hard to please, aren't you?' He pressed a kiss to Duo's mouth, surprised by the sudden, warm rush of affection, and rolled them both over, 'til he had Duo wrapped in his arms.

'I have exacting standards, is all.'


	5. First Breakfast

**Chapter 5 – First Morning:**

When he wakes up, he's alone and the only thing he feels is the sheer inevitability of it. Duo's a runner. Everyone knows it. Stupid to assume that a couple of bouts of mind-blowing sex are going to change that.

He should have damn well tied him up when he had the chance.

He rolls over, burying his head in a pile of pillows and thinks he might just fall back asleep. He's not tired though: it's broad daylight, with the sunlight streaming through the windows, and he has a vivid memory of how Duo felt, curled against him.

They're the sort of memories which are in no way conducive to sleep.

Instead, he pulls himself out of bed, fishing for his jeans, and it's ridiculous how his heart lifts when he catches a glimpse of what's outside. Duo's jeep is still parked there. He's smiling as he cleans up a bit, using a bottle of water and an old t-shirt. If this is going to be any sort of a regular thing, he'll have to look at getting some sort of running water supply installed.

Duo's in the kitchen; he can hear him clattering about from one storey up, and when he walks down, He's frying something at the stove and whatever he's making smells divine. He's figured out how to work the coffee machine too; another heavenly aroma.

The only thing wrong with the picture is that he's fully dressed, unfortunately; actually, more than fully dressed since he's wearing a sweater of Trowa's over his own shirt. His hair is still loose, though, and it's impossible not to remember how it had felt, running it through his fingers. The feel of it sliding over his cock.

Oh, _God_.

He's got Duo Maxwell cooking him breakfast, in his kitchen, wearing his favourite green sweater. A couple of playful sunbeams dancing and darting over his hair, washing it over with glints of coppery-gold.

'Oh. Hey.' Duo gives him a slightly uncertain glance. 'You don't mind me foraging, do you? I woke up and I was kind of starving.'

'I mind you leaving my bed.' Trowa backs him against the wall, and bends down to kiss him. The spoon or spatula or whatever Duo was holding clatters against the tiles, and then he has both Duo's arms around his neck, and Duo's mouth open and inviting under his. Every bit as good as he remembered. Duo's obviously managed to find the bathroom at some point, because he's used Trowa's shower gel, but he also smells of sex and desire and that unique Duo-scent that's so good he breaks off the kiss just to nuzzle Duo's neck.

'Yeah, looks like you really mind,' Duo teases. He leans up to give Trowa's earlobe a nip, and then ducks out of his arms. 'Down, boy. Food first. Sex second.'

'Your priorities are seriously messed up.' He obediently stands back a bit though, watching Duo turn around to whatever he's making, that bloody, too-big jumper hiding his incredible ass.

'My priorities are just fine, thank you. Want to make sure you have enough energy for the next round.' He's obviously trying to sound breezy but his voice, gratifyingly, is more than a little breathless.

'You're the one who fell asleep on me,' Trowa points out.

'And I bet you were snoring your head about ten seconds after.'

True enough: Trowa shrugs anyway. 'Maybe you should have stayed awake to keep me entertained then. Not very nice, coming to someone's house and conking out on them, and then running off the next morning without even a little wake up booty call.'

'Yeah, running off to cook for you,' Duo scoffs. 'Any other complaints?'

'You've got too many clothes on, Maxwell. Way too many damn clothes.'

'You put in a halfway decent heating system, then we'll talk about me going around half-naked as well as you,' Duo retorts. 'Not that I'm complaining or anything, 'cause the view from here is like, wow,' he adds, eyes raking over Trowa's naked chest.

He smirks at that: OK, so there's not going to be any of that first-time after-the-fact awkwardness then. Not with the way Duo is looking at him.

'I can warm you up if you're cold,' he murmurs, He slides his hands under the hem of the jumper, and then under Duo's t-shirt, finally finding skin. Duo gives a delicious little shiver as he slowly slides one hand upwards, searching out a hard little nipple and tweaking. He rolls the taut little nub between finger and thumb, loving the way Duo's breath hitches. 'I bet I could make you come just by doing this for long enough. We'll have to try that.'

'Later, Barton. I already _said_ , food before fucking.'

Trowa yelps as Duo gives him a sudden smack with a wooden spoon he's conjured apparently out of thin air.

'That's a stupid rule,' he sulks, nursing his hand. 'And that damn well hurt.'

'You're such a baby.' It gets him a sweetly lingering kiss though, even if Duo does pull back before it can ripen into anything else. 'Go sit down. It's just ready.'

He doesn't think anybody, ever, has cooked anything especially for him. Cathy's culinary talents start and end at reheating canned soup, and he isn't sure if it counts that Quatre had always given their kitchen staff lists of his favourite meals.

Duo produces two loaded plates though, and a jug of freshly-squeezed juice, looking as good as anything concocted by a five star chef. 'Pancetta, spinach and sweet potato frittata,' he announces with a flourish, a string of words Trowa's never expected to hear out of his mouth. There's an artfully-arranged tomato-and-rocket salad as well, and wedges of buttered sourdough toast.

'You can cook.'

'Duh.' Duo grins at him over a glass of juice. 'Lived in Italy, remember? I did a couple of courses. Didn't know you were such a foodie either.'

'I'm not.'

'Uh huh,' Duo mutters through a mouthful of toast. 'I'm not the one with seven different types of olive oil. And I ran out of patience trying to count your jars of mustard. I love your kitchen, anyway. Want to steal your appliances. I guess you like to cook, huh?'

Trowa just nods; he's taken his first bite and OK, maybe he's not ready to reassess his food-versus-sex priorities, but if this is a sample of how Duo cooks, he might almost consider it.

'Yeah, not like this though. This is amazing.'

Duo shrugs. 'It's nothing much.'

'Stop scrounging for compliments. It's great. You didn't need to go to all this trouble though.'

'Nah, it was fun. I like cooking. I don't get to do much at 'Fei's. He's just got a microwave and a rice cooker, and he hardly ever buys food. I don't know how he survives.'

'He does have Zechs taking him out all the time.'

'Yeah, good point,' Duo grins at him, looking generally happy and at ease with the world.

He doesn't really look like that very often.

Trowa clears his throat, and carefully eats a forkful of salad. 'So, apart from the perils of possible starvation, how d'you like staying with him?'

'It's good.' Duo leans over to help himself to more toast, sliding the last piece onto Trowa's plate in the process. 'He's been really great, actually, but his place is a bit small for two. He did say I could stay as long as I wanted, but it's kinda cramped when we're both there. 'Specially if Zechs is around as well.'

'You can sleep over here sometimes, if you want,' Trowa offers. 'You know. On a couple of conditions.'

'Yeah? Like what?'

'Cooking, definitely. I'm not sure what else. You know how to give massages?'

'Huh? No. Never tried at least. Why?'

'Just trying to work out if I might keep you,' Trowa teases. Sort of teases. 'I mean, you're not that bad in bed, and if everything you cook is like this you're pretty handy with a frying pan and a pound of butter. It's really just the massage thing I'm stuck on.'

'Oh, fuck you, Barton.' Duo's laughing at him though; brightly, uncomplicatedly happy. 'I'll massage your cock with my damn _teeth_ if you're not careful; how'd you like that?'

It's an effort to swallow, suddenly. 'Why don't you try it and see?'

'Yeah?' Duo takes a quick slurp of his juice, and then drops under the table, before Trowa realises that it's not just a joke any more. There is a quick scrape of teeth at the beginning, not nearly enough to hurt, but somehow the spice of it is almost enough to get him off. Instead, he tangles his fingers in the glory of Duo's hair and holds him in position when Duo starts teasing, and bites his lip against a too-fast climax. Duo keeps his mouth in place even after Trowa's soft, mouthing and nuzzling until he can feel himself starting to stir again. Duo presses a kiss to the very tip, and then slumps back against his leg, tilting his head back so Trowa can stroke his hair.

'How was that for dessert?'

'What, you mean you didn't make actual dessert? I might have to rethink the whole keeping you thing.'

Duo makes a face at him. 'Who says I _want_ you keeping me?'

'I do. Face it, who wouldn't want me? I've got my own lighthouse.'

'God, you're so full of it, Tro. Your eyes should be brown, not green.'

'And you're a mouthy little shit.'

'Thought you liked my mouth.'

Trowa laughs, hauling Duo up to his lap so he can kiss him, and curves his palm over the very definite bulge in Duo's pants. 'Oh, I do. Now, play nice, if you want me to take care of that for you. I suppose I might consider keeping you anyway. A chef in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom; isn't that supposed to be the perfect guy everyone wants?'

It's a stupid, dumb joke, because he's blissed out of his mind with sex and sunshine and the scent of Duo's hair in his nostrils, and he knows it's a mistake as soon as the last word is out of his stupid fucking mouth, but by then he's sprawling on the floor where Duo shoved him and Duo is gone.

Shit.

Shitshitshitshit.

Perfect, Barton. Perfect way to ruin the perfect morning. He's out the door only a few seconds after, but Duo's probably halfway out of the fucking country.

He isn't. He hasn't even gone far, just to the line of boulders which form an impromptu seawall. The tide's coming in though, lapping over Duo's bare toes and Trowa winces in sympathy, knowing how cold it must be. Duo doesn't seem to notice, staring fixedly out to sea with strands of hair blowing around his face.

'Hey.'

Duo doesn't protest when he wraps both arms around him, just holds himself stiffly away.

'I'm sorry,' Trowa whispers. 'I'm an asshole.'

'Heero was all about this death before dishonour shit, you know?' He says it in a brittle little voice that only just carries above the waves, the crying seagulls. 'Fucking idiot. Not like he knows anything about the real world; he just lives in this little Heero bubble where everyone has to be so damn perfect, and if you make one fucking mistake, you're nothing.'

'You're not nothing.' Trowa pulls him closer and this time Duo lets him. 'And he's hardly perfect himself.'

'No one ever forced me,' Duo says finally. 'I think that was nearly the hardest thing for him, you know. Like, I'd actually made my own choice to go out and get screwed by strangers so I could afford to buy food, instead of just lying down and dying of starvation. I mean, he could maybe have got past it if I'd been raped 'cause then he could go and avenge my honour or some shit like that. Should've just told him that was how it had happened, but it was back when I had that dumb no-lying rule, and I told him the truth, that I was just this L2 whore who'd done it for money. Never nearly good enough for him.'

'Don't say that. Like you say, he's a fucking idiot.' He kisses the top of Duo's head. 'Why the hell did you stay with him so long?'

'Because,' Duo mutters. 'He's Heero and I fell for him when I was fifteen, and I thought that one day there'd be this miracle and he'd fall for me as well. Stupid, huh? And, you know, it wasn't like it was all bad. We were good, sometimes. Really good. I mean, we're total opposites, and we have fuck-all in common really, but we just kind of get on. Got on. Probably more as friends than anything else; guess that should have told me something, right?'

'Maybe that you deserved better?' He rests his chin on Duo's shoulder, pressing close to steal just a little of Duo's body heat. It's damn freezing out here.

'Yeah, worked that out a while back. probably should've just tried for a clean break back then. Might've hurt less. Just – took a while to process it, you know.'

'I know.' He does, if anyone does. It had taken him years, after all, to end it properly with Quat. As ended as they were, anyway. 'Duo. Are you still in love with him?'

'Never said I loved him,' Duo says in a sudden flash-flare of bravado. 'Dunno. Can't just stop the way you feel about someone, can you? And it's so freaking stupid, cause I know how he feels about me, and I still…. You know what? It's a bloody shame he's gay, or he could be with Relena, and he could be with this pure, perfect person and keep her on a pedestal and then maybe he'd be happy.'

'Pedestals are stupid.'

'Yeah.' Duo takes a deep breath, and swivels around to face him. 'So. You knew all that shit about me, right? I mean, not like Heero doesn't go around yelling it when he's pissed. How d'you feel?'

'I knew, yeah,' Trowa says slowly. 'Not 'cause of all the crap Heero says; no one believes that; everyone thinks it's just stuff you shout at each other. I just – you had a nightmare during the war, once, when we were at the same safe-house. I don't think the others knew what it was about but…I got it. You did what you needed to, to survive. Heero mightn't get that; I do. I grew up like that. I let Trowa Barton fuck me, in exchange for a flight in Heavyarms.'

'For real?'

'For real, yeah. He had a thing for me, from the start. Came after me once and I slashed his fucking face open. Here.' He touches his own cheek. 'Thought he'd come back with some of his goons, but I guess he didn't want them thinking he couldn't handle me by himself. He kept offering me money, all kinds of shit I didn't want. Then, he hit on the one thing I did want, more than anything. Probably wasn't too hard to guess how bad I wanted it; I was always hanging around the hangar, grabbing any excuse to get near.'

'Was he good to you?'

'No,' Trowa said baldly. Of course he hadn't been. No reason to be. He'd had a fifteen-year-old boy at his mercy, in what amounted to his own private stronghold, surrounded by his father's men. No reason in the world to be kind, or even careful. He'd known, going in, what it would be like. He'd met people like that before. He'd known Barton was a predator.

Quatre had cried, hearing about it.

Duo just looked at him, eyes bright and fierce and focussed. 'Was it worth it?'

'God, yeah.'

Power for the first time in his life. All that power under his hand; the power to change the world. And it had set him on the path of his life, to Quatre.

And Duo, now.

'Was it worth it? A million times.'

Duo nodded. 'I'd have let Howard and all the Sweepers screw me sideways if it'd got me five minutes in Scythe.'

'No, you wouldn't,' Trowa scoffs. 'You'd just have stolen him, the way you did anyway. Listen, can we go back inside? I'm freezing my ass off out here.'


	6. Fleas and Mirrors

**Chapter 6 – Fleas and Mirrors:**

Duo insists on going back to Wufei's on Sunday night, saying he needs fresh clothes and a shower where he actually gets to wash, and a proper night's sleep before facing a week of workdays. Trowa does his very best to convince him to stay anyway; he all but succeeds until Duo suddenly remembers that Zechs has flown Wufei to Paris for a few days, and he needs to go back and feed 'Fei's fish and water the plants. Still, it takes three attempts to get as far as his jeep, and then there's an interlude with the gear-stick digging into Trowa's left thigh. He doesn't notice at the time, but he sees the bruises later and works out where they've come from.

Trowa watches him drive off, and finds the lighthouse strangely empty without him.

They eat take-out sushi for lunch on Monday in Duo's office, Duo in an open-necked shirt that shows off the scattering of marks on the pale skin of his throat. Impossible for Trowa not to stare; to remember Duo under him, the sounds he'd made.

'So,' Duo says, with one of those innocent little smiles on his face, one hand toying idly with his collar, and the other sneakily reaching for the last piece of salmon, 'I was talking to this guy from NARC in the elevator. Mike Kelly, you know him?'

Trowa shakes his head. Duo knows everyone, or seemed to; Trowa knows people he has to work with.

'Right, well, he's been seconded to some big case in Costa Rica for two months, leaving ASAP, and he's trying to find someone to rent his apartment while he's gone. He gave me a spare set of keys; I said I'd go and check it out after work.'

'That's good.' He genuinely tries to sound enthusiastic; they hadn't made any plans or anything, but he'd sort of assumed, after the weekend, that there would be more of the same to come. ASAP, preferably. Still, Duo does need a place to live; that has to be a priority. 'Want to do something after?'

'Sorry, Tro.' Duo shakes his head, looking like he genuinely is sorry. 'I've got a flight to Luxembourg first thing in the morning. There's this case I'm testifying in, and I've got to read over the case notes and shit. Should've done it yesterday, but well, you know. I was kind of otherwise occupied.'

'I know,' Trowa grins at him. 'I was there, remember?'

'Remembering you being there every time I sit down,' Duo mutters, changing position slightly in his chair. 'And you might want to stop damn smirking like that if you ever want to get near my ass again.'

'Got it,' Trowa carefully wipes his face free of any expression and Duo laughs. 'Want me to buy you a cushion?'

'Oh, fuck off, Barton.' He's grinning though, that wide, toothy grin that almost splits his face in half.

Trowa reaches out and snags a piece of eel, touching Duo's wrist lightly in the process. He pops the morsel into his mouth, and stretches his hand out again. 'What's the Luxembourg case about?'

Just like that, Duo's smile vanishes. 'It's shit, Tro. Seriously. There was this agent, one of those guys who do PR and community relations and all that. You know, going to schools and shelters and youth clubs, giving talks on personal safety. Except he was taking some of these kids aside for little chats and fucking assaulting them.'

'Oh, hell' He's been stroking Duo's wrist lightly; he curls his fingers around it. Duo doesn't look up from his plate, but he doesn't move his hand away either. 'How many?'

'Eight we know of.' He shrugs. 'You know what the stats are like on how many rapes go unreported. Could be dozens more. One eleven-year-old hanged himself after; left a note on his computer. I hate this shit, you know? Stuff with kids. Anyway, the guy was here for three months, last year. I did some background checking on him; I don't really need to be in court, I could just've sent the info to the Luxembourg office, but I kind of want to be there.'

'I get it. What time do you get back tomorrow? You could come over if you wanted.'

'Last flight, probably and thanks but no thanks. Don't think I'll be in the mood.'

'I know that. I just thought you'd fancy some company.' It's awful, imaging Duo going back to Wufei's empty apartment, feeling the way he undoubtedly will. Everyone knows he hates cases with kids getting hurt. 'Come on, Duo. Tell you what; I'll pick you up at the airport, take you back to my place, make you dinner. OK?'

Duo does look up at that, expression cold. 'Yeah, Tro, nice seduction scene but like I said, I won't really be up for one of those marathon shagging sessions of yours.'

'That wasn't what I meant,' Trowa hisses, tightening his fingers around Duo's wrist when he tried to pull away. 'I wasn't even thinking about it. God, Duo. We've been talking about kids getting raped and you think – what? That I got so turned on that I straightaway think of screwing you? _Seriously_?'

'No! I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry.'

'Good,' Trowa says tightly, and then looks at Duo's expression and forgets to be angry. Shit. 'You're just going to have a hellish day tomorrow, and I thought you might like to at least have someone around afterwards.'

'I can take care of myself, Barton,' Duo wrenches his hand free. 'I don't need you fussing over me. I'm not Quat; I'm not into people fucking coddling me whenever I've got a boo-boo.'

'All I want,' Trowa says levelly, 'is to be there for you at the end of a bad day. That's _all_ , Duo. It doesn't mean I think you can't look after yourself. It's what friends do for each other. What Wufei or Quat would do if they were here.'

'Yeah, I guess,' Duo says quietly, pushing his chair back from the desk and standing up. Heero's name hangs in the air between them; all but tangible. 'You're finished eating, right? Sorry to throw you out but I need to get back to work.'

'OK.' He kisses Duo's cheek on his way past, thinks that maybe one corner of Duo's mouth lifts, very slightly, at the gesture. I'll be at the airport tomorrow, all right? You can come with me or not.'

The flight ends up being nearly an hour late; he gets a text from Duo to tell him not to bother waiting and ignores it.

When Duo finally does come out of Arrivals, he just gives Trowa a terse little nod of acknowledgement, but he does fall into step beside him, and Trowa takes that as a minor personal victory. In the car, he puts on a CD and Duo either falls asleep or pretends to.

Maybe he really is asleep, Trowa thinks, studying him when they're stopped at a traffic light. He hadn't had much sleep at the weekend, and he'd probably been awake the previous night, thinking about the damn case. He looks wrecked; even his ponytail is drooping from its usual jaunty angle.

It takes a couple of tries to wake him when they did get to the lighthouse; he even lets Trowa carry his bag inside. He accepts a heaped plate of food and shakes his head at the wine.

'It's only half a glass,' Trowa insists. 'It'll help you sleep.'

Duo yawns massively. 'Don't need much help, Tro. I'm wrecked. And, wow, this tastes amazing. What is it?'

'Just a stew. Beef cheeks and noodles.' Perfect comfort food on a cold night, when you were tired and feeling down. 'There's plenty more, if you want.' He leans over to refill Duo's water glass. 'So? You want to talk about it?'

'Not so much.' He clears half his plate without saying anything else, then: 'You know the worst thing? He just – didn't seem to get that he'd done anything wrong. He'd been so fucking careful, you know? All the kids he was with, the ones we know about, they were orphans, runaways. Refugees, some of them. He just didn't think they mattered; he actually said that in his own defence. They weren't important enough for anyone to care about.' He sniffs. 'Worst thing, he wasn't wrong. They put these kids in the care system, nobody _does_ care, most of the time.'

'You do,' Trowa says softly, sliding his chair across the floor so he could put an arm around Duo's shoulder.

'Tro, don't. Please. I'm just…trying to hold it together. Don't need you going all soppy on me. Oh, fucking _shit_.'

Quatre had always had the gift of crying prettily, tears sparkling like diamonds on golden lashes. Duo fights it hard at the start, and then just lets Trowa hold him while he gulps out a couple of wrenching sobs and then jerks away.

'Fuck. I _told_ you, Barton.' He scrubs one fist across his eyes.' Just stop being so damn nice to me.'

'Absolutely not. Everyone gets upset sometimes. I'd think you were a pretty awful person if you weren't affected by something like that. Duo, can I ask you something?'

Duo shrugged. 'I know what it is. Did it ever happen to me when I was a little kid, right? No. Heard plenty of stories but no one ever touched me, not like that. I mean, I was in a couple of shitty foster homes where I got knocked around a couple times but hell, I probably deserved it. I was a total brat.'

Trowa lets himself breathe out. It was something he'd always wondered about 'Nothing's changed then,' he teases, and Duo almost smiles.

'Nope. Tro, I'm sorry but I think I need to crash before I fall asleep in my dinner. D'you mind?'

'I can sleep on the couch if you want,' Trowa offers. 'Let you commune with my bed in peace, without me getting in the way?'

Duo smiles at him. It's tired but it looks genuine enough, and then he shakes his head. 'Not going to put you out of your own bed. Come on.'

He can remember, exactly, the last time he'd woken up with someone in his bed, in his arms. Quatre, of course. He can remember the exact date, the time, even. Every single detail. Five months ago; that beach house the Winners owned on Antigua.

Pathetic, really.

Quat's always been a compulsive, limpet-like cuddler. Duo's – whatever the opposite of that might be. He'd fallen asleep as far away from Trowa as he possibly could, back turned. Then he'd woken up at some point, the sky only just starting to brighten outside, with Duo's head beside his, and he'd half-heartedly tried to move away to give Duo his space, and then Duo had moved even closer and properly clung onto him like he was a favourite pillow, and he'll probably freak out when he woke up, but… for now, it's good.

He doesn't really freak. His lashes flutter against his cheek, and then those amazing eyes are staring at Trowa, enormous. 'Whoa! What the fuck? Couldn't keep your hands off me, huh?'

'Not at all,' Trowa tells him levelly. 'You latched on to me sometime during the night; practically fought your way onto my pillow.'

Duo searches his expression, obviously not sure if he's telling the truth, and then lets his head fall back against Trowa's shoulder. 'I'm not into all that snuggly shit. Must have been cold or something. You need to get a decent heating system in this place.'

'Must have been cold, yeah,' Trowa agrees obligingly, slipping one hand through Duo's hair, and then stroking the back of his neck with the very tips of his fingers, something he's discovered Duo loves.

God, he's missed this part. Waking up with another person so close. He'd grown up sleeping in crowded barracks and camps and bunk halls, listening to other men snore and fart and grind their teeth, and then there'd been years of Quat, sleeping sweetly in his arms.

No one since then; sex, yeah, but never anyone he'd been remotely interested in falling asleep with, wanting that person to be there the next morning, smiling at him.

It's glorious.

And for all he's not into _snuggly shit_ , Duo's not complaining either.

'So, I was thinking, it looks like a nice day outside, and I don't have anything pressing at work. What's your schedule like for today? Any chance you can stay?'

'You want me to pull a sickie?' Duo considers. Briefly. 'I could maybe take a vacation day. I've a couple of files I need to go over, but I could do that here. You have something you want to do?'

'A few somethings, actually. I was thinking, breakfast in bed. And we never actually got to spend any time on the beach at the weekend; we could go for a hike along the coast. How's any of that sound?'

'Pretty cool. I have literally never had breakfast in bed in my whole life. OK, that thing I said the other day, about not wanting you to fuss over me, I'm kind of thinking I might take that back. Do I get a do-over?'

'Absolutely. And I'm just being a nice boyfriend, that's all.'

Duo quirks an eyebrow at that.

'What else would you call me?'

'I dunno,' Duo mutters. 'It just sounds, I don't know, _kiddish_. Like we're in high school or whatever.'

Semantics. Right. Sure. 'What d'you want to you call us then?'

'The term _fuckbuddies_ is probably appropriate, don't you think? Given everything.'

'Don't.' Trowa says shortly. His own fault really. All those high-flown ideals about not just leaping into bed together, and the first time he'd had Duo in his home, he'd done just that.

It hadn't just been sex though, not for him. They'd cooked dinner together on Saturday night, and then watched a film on the couch, and talked as they watched the sunrise, and spent a golden afternoon on the roof playing chess.

The sex had been all kinds of astronomical, no question about that, but it was actually the other things that he was remembering in odd little moments, making him smile.

Puttering around the kitchen with Duo; he'd originally meant to throw together some kind of scratch meal, but they'd ended up making a pretty decent risotto with a salad, and lemon tart to follow, and he'd loved every minute of having Duo there, working alongside him and discussing their favourite foods.

Sitting on the couch with Duo stretched out, head in his lap so Trowa could play with his hair, twisting it around his fingers in long silken strands, and poking holes in the plot of some crappy super-hero movie.

Duo shooting him one of those quick, triumphant grins, as he captured one of Trowa's knights, with the waves pounding beneath them, and seagulls floating overhead.

And apparently none of it meant a thing to the man beside him.

'Uh oh. You look pissed.' Duo has his head canted slightly, looking at him. 'What did I say?'

' _Fuckbuddies_ , seriously? That's all I am to you?'

'I don't know what the hell you are,' Duo mutters. 'Look, you're great in bed and I have fun hanging out with you. What else d'you want me to say? Declare my eternal love for you or some shit like that? Get you a damn ring?'

'I'm not proposing either. Just saying, I like being with you. I'd like to spend more time with you. Exclusively.' He leans in for a kiss before Duo can say anything. 'You've got me, anyway. What would you like to eat?'

'Not hungry yet.' Duo breathes out; a long exhale, and curls just a little bit closer. Trowa takes that as agreement, acceptance of what he'd said. In any case, he'd said it, asked Duo out more or less officially, and Duo's not making a run for it.

'I'm kind of starting to like this whole snuggling thing as well.'

'I kind of picked up on that.' He tightens his arm around Duo's waist, and then rolls them so he's lying on top. 'So, since you're not hungry yet, you fancy trying to work up an appetite?'

It's different, this time. Not an epic sex marathon, as Duo had dubbed it before. Not so competitive, both of them out to prove something; to make the other one come first, make it last longer. There's more affection and a little teasing. They take their time over it, with lots of kissing and touching on the way. Not one sudden crescendo, but a series of slowly-rising peaks that seem to go on forever. No sudden crash either, afterwards, when it's over, just the two of them holding each other.

'Wow.' Duo gasps. 'That was, like, wow.'

Trowa can't do anything but laugh. 'That's articulate.'

'You stole the words,' Duo mumbles. 'All the damn words. And I'm starving now.'

'Message received.' Trowa bends down to kiss his mouth, very gentle.

'Want a hand in the kitchen?'

'I'm good. You can stay here; give me an incentive to hurry back.'

It's tempting just to throw some cereal in a bowl, knowing that Duo's waiting in his bed, gloriously naked, but it seems like cheating after he'd promised to cook, so he does, catering for Duo's insanely sweet tooth with French toast, and fruit salad, and some defrosted pastries. The effort's worth it, when he sees the look on Duo's face.

'Well?' He settles the tray on the mattress and slides in beside Duo. 'Like the breakfast in bed thing?'

'Hell, yeah.' Duo bites reaches for a croissant and bites into it. 'Oh. Kind of crumby.'

Trowa laughs. 'Well. I'm going to need to change the sheets later anyway.'

Duo's mouth is half-open, smiling; Trowa pops a strawberry in it, and then kisses him, thoroughly enough that Duo's eyes start to glaze over.

'Hey, I forgot to ask. How was the apartment yesterday? Are you taking it?'

Mouth full, Duo nods and then laughs. 'Yeah, I said I'd take it. It's OK; the location's great, one of those new blocks down by the river. Got its own balcony with a view of the water. It's tiny, though, like a shoe box. Seriously, I can stand in the middle of the bedroom and reach out to touch all the walls. Still, it's just for a couple of months. Gives me time to look around. Oh, while you were in the kitchen, I was thinking, there's this flea market in Nova on the first Wednesday of every month. I need to pick up a couple things. A bookcase and maybe a chair for the balcony.'

'You can't just order something on-line from Ikea?'

'I hate that place,' Duo says, with just a shade more vehemence than most people associate with an innocent Swedish furniture shop, and then looks just a little self-conscious. He bites a toast crust in half with a vicious snap. 'Heero bought all his furniture from there; just ordered whatever displays fit in the rooms. It's like – it was like living in a shop. Anyway, it was just a thought. We don't have to if you hate it.'

'No, it's fine.' OK, shopping, any type of shopping, has got to be his least favourite activity in the universe, and it's not remotely how he'd planned to spend the day, looking at other people's third-hand cast-offs, but Duo seems keen. 'It's a nice drive along the coast; we can do the market, then go have lunch somewhere, and maybe do part of the cliff walk.'

The drive does end up being nice, especially with Duo's hand on his knee the whole time, but the market itself is just as hellish as he'd imagined. Not just assorted broken crap that no one wants, but a full-on Family Day Out. Candy floss and pony rides and a brass band. Fuck it, even face-painting. Kids running around and screaming.

'Sorry, Tro,' Duo says uncertainly, looking at his face. 'I totally forgot this week is Spring break. Normally, it's just furniture stalls and a few food carts. We don't have to stay.'

'No, it's OK. We're here now. Might as well look for the stuff you want.'

For the first few stalls, it is pretty much awful, but he sips the hazelnut coffee Duo bought him, and eyes Duo's ass for consolation, and somewhere it kind of starts to get to be fun. He doesn't quite catch up to the levels of Duo's bright-eyed enthusiasm for rooting through piles of tat, but it's not horrific. And Duo bends down a lot to examine things, which is a nice bonus.

Duo finds a bookcase at the first stall they visit; it's shabby but it's sturdy enough and he says the size is perfect. In rapid progression, they acquire a basket-weave rocking chair with a limp cushion; a bedside locker missing one of its legs, and a plastic vegetable rack. They make a fairly good double act as far as the haggling over price is concerned, the stallholders charmed by Duo's winsome smile, and shooting Trowa dirty looks when he complains the stuff is all crap and not worth carting home. They end up getting everything for a fraction of the originally quoted prices, and Duo is beaming as they cart it all to the truck.

'That was cool, Tro! Right, ready to go back in for round two?'

Trowa's heart sinks. 'You want to look at more junk? I thought you got everything you wanted.'

'That was the stuff I needed,' Duo corrects. 'I thought it might be fun just to browse around.' He hoists his bookcase up, and then looks at Trowa. 'Oh, we don't have to. It's probably not how you'd planned to spend your day off, huh?'

Trowa sighs. 'We can take a quick look 'round, if you want, and then go get lunch.'

'Sounds like a plan!' Duo grins at him as two little boys dash past, faces bright with tiger-stripes. 'Tell me, why d'you hate face-painting so much? I saw the look on your face when you got here. I thought you'd be used to that stuff at the circus.'

'Oh. God. I have two five-year-old nieces. They're going through the make-up princessy stage. I'm their favourite model.'

Duo actually bends down, he's laughing so hard. 'That's the most adorable thing I've ever heard. _Ever_. In my whole life.'

'And you'll forget it if you ever want to get near my cock again,' Trowa says smartly. Damn, he's no idea why he even mentioned Eve and Sadie doing that. Duo's like fucking Kryptonite, making him feel so relaxed that he blabs anything without even thinking.

'Oh, _burn_. The ultimate threat.' He mimes zipping his lip closed. ''Kay. Totally forgotten. So, you spend much time with them?'

'When I can. Their dad's not really in the picture, so I try to be around. You like kids?'

'I guess. Don't really know any personally, just Auri and he's a bit young to have actual conversations or whatever. Um.' He bites his lip after that, and dives into the nearest stall. 'Anyway. Come on, let's go and find some treasures.'

The first treasure is a monstrosity of a mirror, easily as tall as Duo, and half again as broad.

Trowa grimaces. 'It's hideous, Duo. It looks like it belongs in a brothel. And if your new place is as small as you say, you won't even get it through the door.'

'How d'you know so much about interior décor in brothels, Tro?' Duo teases. 'Actually, I don't want it for me, it's for you. Since we're on the subject of brothels, I thought it'd look good over your bed.'

Trowa snorts coffee through his nose. 'You are joking, right? There's no way that's coming into my house.'

'I was joking about putting it on your ceiling, yeah.' Duo crouches down at his feet, peeling off a long curl of gilt with one fingernail. 'I did think it'd look cool in the lighthouse. Look, it's hideous 'cause of all that scuzzy gold paint; the actual frame's decent wood, and it's a really nice shape; you could scrape the gilt off, paint it off-white or grey and maybe stick on some shells or whatever. I even have the perfect place for it; that first-floor landing. It's exactly the right size and it'll reflect the view from that big window. Be like having the sea on the wall.'

'Um, OK,' Trowa says just a little dubiously. He's not really into mirrors, into clutter-y things generally, but he'll let Duo cover every wall he has with gilt monstrosities or shells, or whatever he wants, just to keep him smiling like that.

Half an hour later, they've acquired quite a collection: an old door which Duo calls an 'accent piece', whatever the hell that means; a couple of mismatched and rickety kitchen chairs; and the one thing that Trowa actually likes; an old leather-bound seaman's chest.

A pile of crap, truly. Still, it was all cheap and it had been enjoyable enough burrowing through the stacks of furniture and almost getting caught up in Duo's eagerness and bantering with the stall-holders. A world away from shopping with Quat. He can't, in a million years, imagine Quat somewhere like this.

On the way back to the car park, Duo snags a tarnished ship's lantern, and casts a speculative eye over a couple of lobster pots. 'You know, I've seen these made into coffee tables and stools and stuff. Might look pretty good.'

'No way,' Trowa says firmly. 'Not those. They're used to trap live creatures. I don't want them in my house.'

'Oh, my God,' Duo smirks at him, but there's undeniable affection there as well as the teasing. 'You colossal sap. Forget about the kids putting lipstick on you. That's the sweetest thing _ever_.'

'I'm not sweet,' Trowa starts to object and then Duo kisses him. In the middle of the parking lot, in broad daylight, even if there isn't actually anyone in their immediate vicinity. He stiffens at the start and then Duo coaxes him into it, and it's Duo, not Quat anyway. It's allowed. They can do this, and no one's going to care.

'So, um,' Duo asks when they pull apart. Finally. 'Sorry. Maybe I should've asked. I know some people aren't into the whole PDA thing.'

Heero isn't, Trowa's mind supplies helpfully. 'Did I look like I didn't like it?'

'For a sec at the start, yeah. Kind of.'

'Honestly, it's not a problem. It's just not something I'm all that used to. That's all.'

'Yeah, nor me. But you don't actually have issues with the whole touching-in-public thing?'

'Nope.' He proves it by backing Duo against the side of the truck, and doing his level best to lick Duo's tonsils.

'So, kissing's good, right?' Duo presses against him, and slides one hand down his hip, resting the palm on the curve of his ass. 'Groping?'

'Not…a problem either.'

'And this?' He reaches up, in the process rubbing his crotch enticingly against Trowa's and closes his lips around Trowa's earlobe, sucking it gently into his mouth.

Oh, shit. 'Duo, unless you're actually into having sex in public places, you really need to stop doing that. Now. Or I'll have to bend you over this truck and we'll probably both end up getting arrested for gross indecency.'

'I'm so turned on right now, I'm almost tempted,' Duo breathes, warm breath ghosting across Trowa's skin.

The contrast between that, and the little licks he's dabbing down Trowa's neck are almost enough to make him come, never mind that he's got the evidence of just how turned on Duo is pressed flush against his own erection.

'Duo. Stop that. _Now_!'

'Jeez, Tro.' Duo pulls back obediently, smirking. 'Never thought you'd get all hot and bothered like that over a little kiss or two. How 'bout we go with Plan B and get some lunch and then you can take me back to the lighthouse and you can bend me whichever way you want?'

'Good plan. Provided I don't spontaneously combust before we get home.' He opens the passenger door and helps himself to a good feel of Duo's ass as he slides inside. 'I know a nice seafood place down by the harbour.'

'Sounds good.' Duo twists to gaze out the back window at their new possessions. 'Uh, Tro. Would you mind if I kept my stuff at your place for a bit? Don't think 'Fei'd be too keen if I carted all this in the door.'

'I can't imagine he would, no,' Trowa agrees, imagining Wufei's expression if he had all this crap dumped in his pristine apartment. 'There are a couple of empty outhouses behind the lighthouse. You can take on of those.'

'That'd be cool. If it's OK, I have some tools and odds and ends in Heero's garage. I was thinking, I should pick them up before he gets back, or he'll probably throw them all out; he was always bitching about me cluttering his place up with too much stuff. D'you think it'd be OK if I kept them at the lighthouse? Or is that too much.'

'It's fine, I've got tonnes of space, I can help you move things if you want.'

''Kay. Thanks,' Duo says absently, a faraway look on his face, as they pull out of the parking space and join the line of cars, waiting to leave. Not really hard to guess who he's thinking of.

'When's Heero getting back, do you know? Where is he anyway?'

'L3. Some software installation job.'

Trowa nods; he'd known that actually. He'd just wanted to see if Duo did.

'He's back in a couple of days, I think,' Duo goes on. 'Well, due back. You know what he's like. Does what he wants, most of the time.'

'Have you talked to him at all?'

'What the hell is this?' Duo snaps at him. 'Twenty questions? Yeah, he called me a couple times. I told him it's over. I told him to go fuck himself. He knows about you. Us. Anything else you want to know?'

'Do you miss him?'

Duo doesn't answer at once, just fidgets with a loose strand of hair, twisting it around his finger. 'I guess. I don't know, Trowa. It's not like we had this perfect relationship for years, and then one day we had a colossal row and just broke up. Yeah, there were bits when it was good, and I thought maybe we were getting somewhere, and then there were these other bits when he treated me like this lodger who paid rent and put out if he was in the mood. I think he was actually happy with that, like he was getting what he wanted and it was enough for him, but I wasn't. I think we just got to this point where nothing was changing, you know? Like we weren't even communicating and he'd just lock himself in his room and we weren't even able to talk to each other and we'd always at least been able to do that.' He sighed, heartfelt. 'He said I always wanted too much, like he just didn't get it. I just wanted us to do couple-y stuff, sometimes. Like, even to pretend we were really together. Well, you know how he grew up. Poor guy is totally screwed up. He'd never in a million years have come to something like this with me. Wouldn't even have considered it for a second. It's really great that you did. I get that it wasn't exactly on your list of fun stuff to do today, but you came along, and you gave it a try. That was really amazing.'


	7. Storm Warning

**Chapter 7 – Storm Warning:**

Considering they worked in a building full of people who largely spied on other people for a living, it was odd how long it took before anyone figured out what was happening.

Slightly over two weeks in total. Not like they were flaunting it, but they weren't exactly hiding either. It had to have been pretty obvious that they were spending more time together.

Then, on Monday morning, his secretary walked in on them in the middle of a moderately heavy make-out session. Duo didn't even notice at first, until Wendy had slammed the door on her way out, and then he laughed. Trowa had actually frozen for a heartbeat, and then realised that Duo clearly didn't care, and it wasn't a big deal anyway. Yeah, Wendy was undoubtedly on her way to tell everyone in the building exactly what she'd seen, but their colleagues would welcome it as a spicy piece of gossip on a dull week, nothing more.

Everything changed after that. He couldn't walk down the corridor or get into the lift without feeling the prickle of stares: envious, speculative, frankly curious or appraising. Hd heard snippets of gossip, mostly about what Heero would be bound to do to him when he got back. People were reluctant, all of a sudden, to go into his office; to walk down a hallway with him.

Stupid. If Heero wanted to take him out, he'd be careful not to incur any collateral damage in the process. It wasn't as if Heero was around, even. He was supposed to be due back from his assignment any day, but Heero generally suited himself, and somehow got away with it.

Wufei came back on the Wednesday, home from his trip with Zechs, and turned up in Trowa's office just after lunch, casually letting himself in through the locked door. Damn. He was really going to have to change the combination; the whole world seemed to know it, to swan in and out of his office at will.

Wufei closed the door behind him. 'Is it true?'

'Great to see you too, 'Fei. Have a good time in Paris? Is what true?'

'That you're…carrying on with Duo?'

'We're fucking on a fairly regular basis, if that's what you mean, yeah. And, no offence, but it's none of your damn business.'

Wufei gave one of those eloquent little sniffs he specialised in. 'Of course it is. It's my business that my two friends are apparently determined to wreck their lives.'

Trowa sent a quick mental apology to the spreadsheet he was working on, and gave up any chance of getting it finished any time soon. 'What exactly are you talking about? We're two consenting adults, we're both single, we're not doing anything illegal or unethical. Tell me, how exactly is any of that going to wreck our lives?'

Wufei shook his head pityingly and abruptly sat down. 'I don't know why you keep doing this to yourself. Getting involved with people who are totally unattainable, whom you can never have.'

'Out of my league, you mean?' Trowa snapped. 'Just fuck off, Chang, why don't you?'

'Trowa, of course I don't mean anything like that. I just don't want to see you getting hurt again,' Wufei said wretchedly.

'I know,' Trowa said. Damn, his friend looked so unhappy that it was impossible to stay angry with him. And it was Wufei, more than anyone else he knew, who'd been there for him after Quatre. 'I thought… I did have him.'

'I know.' Wufei reached across the desk, and touched his hand, very lightly. 'And I am so very sorry for what happened.'

'Yeah. You're always telling me I need to move on. And now I am. What's the big deal?'

'Because it's Duo, of all people. Trowa, you must know it's never going to work. He'll go back to Heero eventually. He always does, you know that.'

'I don't actually know anything of the sort. They've broken up.'

'They break up, on average, once a month.'

'This is serious. He moved out. He's sleeping in your living room.'

'It's hardly the first time he's done that either.' He brushed his fingers once against Trowa's, and then took his hand back. 'You need to move on, yes. But not with Duo. It's far too complicated. Heero's your friend. Have you thought, just for a second, how awkward it's going to be when Duo goes back to him? You'll end up losing them both, just because you wanted to sleep with Duo. You know that, don't you?'

'It's not just about sex. Look, I've no idea what's going to happen. I can't tell the future. But right now, we're getting on well. _Yes_ , it's awkward about Heero, and we've talked about that. Duo's not actually involved with him anymore and he's free to be in a relationship with anyone he wants. At the moment, that happens to be me.'

'So, it's a relationship now?' Wufei demanded sceptically.

'It's always been a relationship.' Apart from the first time, anyway. 'And 'Fei, I do get you're worried about me. I appreciate that. But we're fine.'

'And what about your career?'

Trowa blinked. 'What? My career's fine too, thank you very much. Would be even better,' he added pointedly, 'if I could get on with this report I need to finish.'

'You're endangering your positions at Preventers, both of you. You do realise that?'

'What, the non-fraternization rules? It hardly applies to us. We're not field agents. We don't even work together that much.'

'It's still in the rule book,' Wufei said officiously.

'Oh, you and Merquise finally got around to reading it, did you?' Trowa gibed. 'Ran out of other things to do in bed already?'

It caught Wufei off-guard for approximately one second, and then he hit back with all guns blazing under cover of a tight little smile. 'Have you told Quatre?'

'No.'

'You don't think he's entitled to know that you're sleeping with his best friend?'

'I think he stopped being entitled to know anything about me when he married someone else.'

'Someone will tell him,' Wufei said, very earnestly. 'Everyone at Preventers seems to know; he has friends here. You know that.'

'Will you?'

'He is my friend. I don't want him hurt either.' He hesitated. 'But no, I think you're the one who should tell him. This, with Duo. It's really serious? Not just because he's Quatre's friend?'

'Yeah, that's exactly why I'm with him,' Trowa said curtly. 'However did you guess? I've been plotting an evil revenge against Quat for the past two years; taking up with his best friend is just phase one of how I'm out to destroy his life. For fuck's sake, Chang, you don't really believe that, do you? You'd better not.'

'I don't, no,' Wufei sighed. 'I'm sorry. I just can't see this working out.'

Trowa shrugged. 'Most people wouldn't exactly have given you and Zechs great odds either,' he snapped. 'Now, d'you mind? I really do have a deadline.'

'Of course you do,' Wufei stood, eyes fixed on his friend's face. 'I'm sorry if I've offended you. Truly. I'm just concerned.'

'I know.'

God, he'd have taken anyone else's head off, for saying that shit. Wufei, though; he got where his friend was coming from. Wufei'd pulled him back from the darkness after Quat.

Duo turned up at seven. Trowa was on the roof, watching the sun slowly sink into the sea, painting streaks of mulberry flame across the sky. He was in a mood; Trowa could tell just by the way he parked the jeep.

When he opened the door, Duo's mouth was set in the precise geometric definition of a straight line, and he wasn't quite meeting Trowa's eyes. 'Hey. D'you mind me coming over? I was gonna call and then I thought I'd just swing by on the off-chance that you might be home.'

'I don't mind at all. What can I get you? Drink? Food? Kinky sex?'

One corner of Duo's mouth tilted very slightly and very reluctantly upwards. 'A beer or ten might be good if you don't mind me staying over. And I could maybe eat something.'

'Sex for dessert then.' Trowa gave him a kiss, and a light swat to the ass. 'I was on the roof. Go on up. I'll just be a sec.'

He waited for Duo to climb the first flight of stairs, enjoying the view, especially as Duo put an extra bit of swagger into it for his viewing pleasure, and then headed for the kitchen. He collected them a beer each from the fridge, and assembled Duo the makings of a sandwich to take upstairs.

'Here you go.' He handed the tray over, and sat down beside him. 'What's wrong?'

Duo nodded his thanks and downed half the bottle in one long swallow before setting it down. 'So. 'Fei's home. Spent the best part of an hour lecturing me once he walked in the door.'

'Ah. I guessed that might be it. I got a visitation this afternoon. He turned up in my office and read me the riot act. What did he say to you?'

Duo didn't look up from constructing a towering edifice of bread and cold meats on his plate. 'We'll wreck both our careers, all that crap. He's a bloody hypocrite, is what he is. Just because he and Zechs don't actually live together. God, like people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, right?'

'Right.'

Not stones. More like live hand grenades. Lightning bolts.

'He asked me if I'd told Quat.'

Duo was, suddenly, very still. 'And?'

'I've hardly spoken to him in the last couple of weeks. He's on that tour he does every year, 'round the colonies.'

'That,' Duo said carefully, 'is what's called an evasion in the legal profession.'

'This is what I get for dating a lawyer, is it? It's true, Duo.' More or less. He had spoken to Quat, naturally, but between time differences and Quat's gruelling itinerary, and his own workload, they'd all been quick checking-in conversations, no time to discuss anything serious. 'You haven't said anything either?'

Duo shook his head. 'Same reasons, I guess. And, I dunno.'

'I want to tell him in person.'

He did look up then, those huge eyes wide and fixed on Trowa's face. 'You don't have to. Tell him, I mean. You could wait. See where this whole thing is going.'

'No. I want to.'

Duo smeared a slice of bread with mustard, and added a curled slice of pastrami. 'The career thing, whatever. Not like we're the only ones who've ever broken that rule. They don't get to dictate my personal life. If they push it, fuck it, I can leave. Go and make some actual decent money in the private sector.'

Trowa shook his head, watching as Duo added rocket leaves and another slice of bread to his sandwich. 'Are you even going to be able to fit that in your mouth?'

'Oh, Trowa,' Duo's eyes glinted at him. 'You know I can fit a lot in my mouth. Don't you?'

Trowa grinned; he loved how Duo could do that; lighten things up with a look and a few words. 'You could maybe remind me.'

'I maybe could. In a few. I'm starving. Didn't get to have any dinner.'

He took a bite of his sandwich and chewed, in a sudden, companionable silence.

'So, what else did 'Fei have to say for himself?'

'Nothing much,' Duo peeled the top layer off his sandwich and pulled off the crusts, rolling them around a wedge of brie. 'How I'm going to run back to Heero as soon as he snaps his fingers, leaving Wufei to pick up the little pieces of your ruined life. Nice idea he has of me, considering he's meant to be my friend.'

'I don't think it's you, really,' Trowa said quietly. 'He's worried about me. He pretty much had to put me back together after Quat left, and I suppose he doesn't want to do it again.'

'Hardly the same. I'm not Quat, am I?' Duo muttered thickly through a mouthful of bread, bending over to disassemble his carefully-crafted sandwich into manageable bites, and then tilted his head. 'Is that thunder?'

'Yeah.' He got up and wandered over to the rail. 'There was a storm warning on the radio, for shipping.' The sky was dark now, all traces of the dying sun obliterated by the heavy masses of dark clouds.

'Cool. Bet storms look pretty spectacular here.'

'Amazing, yeah.' He slipped an arm around Duo's waist as the other man joined him. 'Hey there.'

'Hey yourself. So, 'Fei didn't manage to warn you off me, huh?'

'Not even close,' Trowa assured him. He tangled the fingers of one hand in Duo's pony-tail, fumbling for the stupid little hair-tie and jerking it off. 'What else did he say?'

'Ah, nothing,' Duo ducked in and gave him a quick kiss on the mouth. 'He's full of shit.' Another kiss, deeper, and a lightening flash above them and the first drops of rain. 'Wow. I love this.'

'You love getting soaked?' Trowa asked wryly.

'Yeah.' Duo lifted his head, eyes the colours of thunderstorms at twilight. 'Love it. Rain.'

Typical colonial, Trowa thought with one of those little bursts of affection he'd started feeling on a fairly regular basis. They either hated getting wet to the point of having a phobia about it, like Quat had, or they went running around in storms, getting themselves soaked just for the hell of it. He had a jacket at least, with a hood; Duo just had the light shirt he'd been wearing at work. He must have run out of Wufei's, Trowa reflected suddenly; normally he couldn't wait to get changed out of his work clothes. Fuck, what the hell else had 'Fei said to him?

'You're going to get drenched,' he warned again, and Duo just laughed.

'I won't melt, Tro. And you can warm me up after.'

God, he was gorgeous, illuminated by lightening. Eyes glowing and hair loose about his shoulders and that smile.

Trowa kissed him fiercely, rain pouring down their faces and the air about them all but vibrating from thunder claps and the charge of electricity in the air, between them. Nothing like the tropical storms on Tahiti, where the rain was warm as blood, scented with flowers. _Nothing_ like that, any of it. It was Duo pressed against him, not Quatre. Duo throwing his head back for Trowa to kiss the long arch of his throat, Duo's hardness pushing against his hand.

'God, Tro,' Duo said, breathless. 'Keep doing that and I'll come. Right now.'

'Not yet.' He gave one quick, hard squeeze, and then yanked Duo's trousers down, pressing him back against the railing. God, maybe not the wisest idea to have sex on the roof on what was effectively a giant lightening rod, in the middle of a massive storm, but he didn't give a damn, and Duo pretty obviously didn't care either, twisting his fingers into Trowa's hair, just short of pulling, and he hadn't even known that was a thing but it was just as much a turn-on as the way Duo was moaning and thrusting his hips forward, and the feel of him in Trowa's fist.

'Oh, fuck,' Duo managed. 'Tro, stop. Want you to do me. Now.'

Trowa stilled obediently, the fingers of one hand curled around Duo's cock, the other digging into his hip. 'Not here, Duo. It's crazy.'

'God.' Duo hissed, and bucked into his hand. 'What part of _fuck me stupid_ _ **now**_ do you not understand, Barton?'

That effectively froze any of the objections running through his brain; no lube, the storm getting closer in sheets of stinging rain and gusts of wind. But Duo's voice, the things he'd said immediately short-circuited any sort of sense that he'd ever had, self-preservation even.

He used spit and rain-water and fingers to get him ready; he risked one long savouring lick between Duo's buttocks and Duo, bent over the railings, nearly catapulted over. OK, not the best time to try rimming, not by a long shot. The prep was perfunctory at best, with a long stream of demands from Duo just to _do it now, Barton._ The sex didn't take that much longer, both of them far too keyed-up and desperate for it. His whole body was thrumming with desire, spiced deliciously with a hint of danger, because seriously this was insane, but it was _Duo_ , and he'd never felt so alive, so aware of everything in the universe. He had one hand on Duo, and they came almost simultaneously, as a fork of lightening tore the sky in two, far too close.

'Oh, shit,' Duo whispered.

'Downstairs,' Trowa snapped. 'Now. Come on.' He held Duo upright while he pulled up his pants, and half-dragged him inside, the door slamming behind them with the sudden force of the gale. He hadn't even noticed the wind picking up speed. Probably wouldn't have noticed if the lighthouse had been hit by lightening. There'd been nothing but Duo.

Duo was a bit wobbly going down the stairs, half-stumbling until Trowa got a grip around his waist and supported him. 'You OK?' He pulled Duo into the bedroom, half-threw him on the bed.

'I guess.' His eyes were dreamily glazed over. 'Tro, that was…'

'Fucking insane.' He was smiling though, couldn't help himself. 'Duo, get those things off or you'll get pneumonia or something.'

''S'all just an evil plan to get me naked,' Duo slurred.

'I don't need a plan to get you naked, you idiot,' Trowa said fondly. 'Strip, Maxwell. You're soaking my good sheets.' He ended up having to pull Duo's clothes off himself, piling both their clothes in a dripping heap in one corner, as well as the towels he'd used to dry them. 'I'm going to go get us a couple of hot drinks, all right? Don't fall asleep on me.'

'No way,' Duo murmured obligingly, eyes already drifting closed.

Trowa thought he'd be fast asleep when he walked back upstairs, but he was sitting up in bed, propped against a pile of pillows. Trowa slid in beside him, handing him a mug of hot chocolate with a generous dash of whiskey. 'You OK?' he asked again. 'I didn't break you or anything?'

'Did your damn best,' Duo mock-grumbled, the effect ruined by the dreamy smile, and the whipped cream smeared above it. 'I'm good. Just kind of ….'

'Well and truly fucked?' Trowa suggested, grinning at him.

'You're full of yourself, aren't you?'

'Technically,' Trowa's moderately inoffensive grin took a turn to the dark side of smirking, 'you're the one who was full of me.'

Duo groaned on cue, long and eloquent, and then curled even closer. Trowa threaded his fingers through Duo's loose hair, loving the feel of it. Even after a vigorous towelling, it was still slightly damp, like wet, heavy silk against his skin. 'I've never asked. Why did you cut it?'

'Huh?' Duo shrugged. 'I dunno. Just – seemed time, I guess. You know, I wasn't this fifteen-year-old terrorist any more. I was a grown-up professional with an actual job. It was like, marking a transition. Like it was the right time. Heero went freaking ballistic though. Ever since we met, he'd been bitching about my hair, and when I cut it, I thought he was going to kill me.'

'I don't blame him actually. It was amazing,' Trowa murmured, remembering. 'The way it used to sway against your ass.'

Duo grinned. 'Never knew you noticed.'

'I noticed enough.' He ran the palm of one hand down Duo's back, and over the beguiling curve of Duo's buttocks. 'Noticed this; not that it wasn't always damn obvious, with those tight jeans you wear all the time.'

'If you've got it, flaunt it, right?'

'Yeah, please,' Trowa said huskily, as Duo tilted his hips, pressing against his hand. 'Don't stop flaunting it. Wouldn't know what to do if there wasn't ….flauntage.'

' _So_ not a word,' Duo mocked, reaching up to tweak Trowa's nipple as he leaned over to fumble in the bedside locker.

This time he made it last; used all the lube he had; drew it out 'til Duo was gasping and incoherent and conscious of nothing else in the universe but how much he wanted it. After, he wrapped himself around Duo, the pair of them a sweaty, sticky mess, and the bed no better. He was really going to have to buy more sets of sheets at this rate, but Duo didn't seem to mind particularly, not when Trowa was kissing the back of his neck, fingers slipping easily inside Duo. Quatre had never let him do that, had always bolted for the bathroom after sex to clean up, and then just wanted to cuddle until falling asleep with Trowa holding him.

He loved that Duo was happy to lie there in the aftermath, happy to let Trowa play with him.

'Hey, Tro? Would you mind if I stayed here for a day or two? Just 'til I can move into my new place?'

Trowa laughed. 'You picked the perfect time to ask, didn't you? What do you think? If you promise never to leave the bed, you're more than welcome. Stay as long as you like.'

'Thanks.' Duo hesitated. 'I…kind of had this major row with 'Fei.'

'I kind of guessed,' Trowa said dryly.

'Yeah. Well. He pretty much threw me out, I think. He was being a total asshole, you know? He actually said I was only using you to annoy Heero, make him jealous, whatever.'

'Ouch.'

'Ouch, right.' He ran one hand down Trowa's arm, and tangled their fingers together. 'I was pissed and I said something stupid; that if I'd really wanted to piss Heero off, I'd have hit on Zechs. He didn't take it very well.'

'I can imagine.' He squeezed Duo's hand. 'He pretty much accused me of being with you to get back at Quat.'

Duo shook his head. 'I don't get if he really has that low an opinion of us, or if he's just imagining what he'd be doing in our place. The guy's freaking scary. I'm sorry for Zechs if he ever sets a foot out of line. 'Fei'll destroy him.'

'He just likes everything cut and dried, you know that. He's not great at dealing with change; wants everything in its place, the way it makes most sense to him. In his mind, you're with Heero, and I'm…'

'Yeah.' Duo said heavily, and then kissed his arm, just above the crook of the elbow. 'Tro? Can I ask you something?'

' _Again_? Give me a few minutes, OK?'

'Not that.' He turned around in Trowa's arms, pressed his lips to Trowa's throat. 'Want to ask you an actual question. Why'd you and Quat break up?'

Oh, fuck. Of all the fucking questions. Duo had a right to ask though. He'd clearly been uncomfortable talking about Heero but he'd answered honestly. He deserved the same in return.

'He finally realised that I wasn't going to sprout breasts and start popping out little Winners, however much he wanted it. Took him a while, but he did get there in the end.'

'Trowa. Really?'

'God, Duo. You _know_ why. He married someone who wasn't me. You were there. I'm sure you remember it.'

'Yeah, and I know you two were fucking each other a week later.'

Quatre had called, the second night of the honeymoon. He'd been crying so hard it had taken Trowa a while to understand what he was saying.

' _I feel like I've cheated on you.'_

' _You have.'_

For the first time in his entire life, in all the time they'd known each other, he hadn't tried to comfort Quat. He'd hung up and, also for the first time in his life, he'd gone to a bar to get pissed out of his skull and pick up someone to fuck.

Naturally, he'd picked the first guy who looked anything like Quat; a sandy-blond twink with big blue eyes and a carefully-assumed air of innocence, which he'd dropped as soon as they'd gone out the back door to the alley behind the club. He'd known what he was doing anyway. He'd sucked Trowa off like a pro, getting him ready, and then braced himself against the wall, presenting that hot little ass.

Trowa had been sick out of the taxi window on the way home and then he'd called Quat.

They'd both cried, that time.

Two days later, Quatre had cut short the honeymoon, citing trade union disputes taking place on L3 as a convenient excuse, and the two of them had been together for three days; the start of an affair that had lasted for over two years, that was officially over, except on a few occasions when they'd both been lonely and enough desperate enough.

'I hated it,' he said finally. 'All the sneaking around. We'd had to be discreet after the war, for his family's sake, yeah, but it was different. This was – it was like I was this dirty secret no one could ever know about. I hated it,' he repeated. 'I think Quat could, I don't know, compartmentalise or something, like he had two totally separate lives, but I couldn't.'

Duo surprised him, then, pressing closer and kissing his cheek. 'He treated you like shit, Tro,' he said, with a level of bitterness Trowa hadn't ever imagined.

'You're his friend.'

'Yeah, and that doesn't mean I have to approve of everything he does. It was like, he got to have everything. The perfect wife to make his family happy, and a kid, and his damn company, and you on the side whenever he could sneak off. And I don't get how you put up with it so long. Years, Tro. I mean, how often did you even get to see him in that time? He was off, living this perfect shiny life and you were stuck waiting for him. We had a massive row over it actually. I didn't speak to him for ages.' He hesitated. 'Look, don't thump me for saying this, but I think he even kind of got a kick out of it sometimes. Having a secret.'

'He did, pretty much,' Trowa acknowledged. It had taken him months to work it out, but then no had ever accused him of being smart where Quatre Winner was concerned, so he hadn't seen it at the start. That Quatre, with his regimented and well-run and oh-so-proper existence, had loved the thrill of having an illicit affair, loved the danger of it.

'It was a crappy way to treat someone,' Duo went on. 'I love the guy, and he's a great friend but…fuck. I never got how he could do that to you. And Sura, come to that. I mean, I know it was an arranged marriage for both of them, and she wasn't exactly going into it thinking he was her Prince Charming, but she was an eighteen-year-old girl, and he made all those vows to her, and I guess he never expected to keep them for even one second.'

Trowa flopped onto his back, starting up at the ceiling. 'She nearly died when Auri was born. It was seriously touch and go at one point, and all I thought was if she did die, I could get him back. He'd have done what his family wanted, he'd have his kid. She was this girl I'd never even met, and I was thinking how great it would be if she wasn't around any more, just so my life would work out better. How sick is that, Duo? _That_ was why I finished things, in the end. Like you said, Quat's great at compartmentalising. I couldn't do it any more. Just took me two years to figure out I wanted more.'

Duo shrugged. 'Took me ten, more or less. Well, ten to actually do something about it.'

'And here you are.'

'Yeah.' Duo's expression was blank, suddenly. 'Here I am. 'Fei said I was using you, that I was going to break your heart, the way Quat did. He said it was serious for you. This. Us.'

'You know it is. I thought – we talked about this, Duo. I thought you were serious too.'

'A relationship. Right?' God, Trowa hadn't heard him sound like that for days; that awful bitterness. 'I'm not Quat, though. 'Fei was right, wasn't he? He said Quat's the love of your life, that he always will be. Not like I didn't know that, going in. Stupid to think anything else might happen.'

'I do love him, Duo. I'm not going to lie about that. He's always been the most important person in my life. I wouldn't even know how to stop loving him, and believe me, I've damn well tried. But I don't trust him anymore. I can't, after what he did to me.'

'Tro. Everybody lies, sometimes.'

'I know that,' Trowa said irritably. He let his head fall back against the pillows, and looked at the painting above him. 'He gave me this, for my eighteenth birthday. He promised we'd always be together. He swore it. I believed him, that it was what we wanted. Yeah. I always thought…look, I never really believed I'd get to keep him for always. I thought, maybe he'd meet someone else, or we'd just drift apart, or start wanting totally different things, or maybe he'd want to try doing it with a girl or hell, I don't know. All the normal reasons why people break up. And any of them would have hurt like hell, but at least we'd have given it a try. I think I could have lived with that. But Quat broke us so he'd get his family's approval, and his damn company, and so he could go off and be the good little son he'd never managed to be when his father was alive.'

He'd called Quat the night before the wedding; the first time they'd spoken in weeks, and begged Quat not to do it.

' _You'll destroy us. Both of us. And the girl. Three lives, Quat. Just so you can sit in that damn boardroom and think that somewhere your father's spirit might be approving of what you're doing._

Quat had hung up, and Trowa had swallowed a half-bottle of whisky and all the pills he'd been able to buy over the counter in three different chemist shops. He'd never told anyone that, and Wufei only knew because he'd found him.


	8. All Out Tempest

**Chapter 8 – All Out Tempest:**

When Heero walked into his office, at half past two on Thursday, Trowa was moderately proud of how quickly he suppressed his first instinct of jumping out the window. Heero didn't look particularly murderous though, or at least he was just wearing his usual default expression of doom, so Trowa just saved the document he'd been working on and leaned back in his chair.

'Hey. You know, I changed my door code two days ago. To try to stop people just swanning in whenever they like.'

A shadow of a smile skittered across Heero's face, gone immediately. 'You always use combinations a child could break. What's wrong with Duo and Wufei?'

Not at all the opening line he'd expected. 'They had a row, I think. They both said some stupid stuff. I'd leave them to sort it out.'

Heero sighed, looking aggrieved. He was just like Quatre sometimes; a bloody determined meddler who believed the universe couldn't turn without his assistance. Trowa firmly believed that most things sorted themselves out quite adequately without outside interference.

'They won't tell me anything about it. Duo says it's none of my business,' he said forlornly, jerking his chair a little closer to Trowa's desk, so he could rest his right foot on the filing cabinet, the way he always did. The last time he'd been in here, a few weeks ago, before all of this had happened, they'd talked about taking a trip together. Norway or Switzerland, maybe, to get the tail-end of the ski season, and do some climbing.

'They'll work it out. Wait, what? You talked to Duo? When? Why?'

'A couple of days ago, I think. Why shouldn't I talk to him? We live together.'

Duo hadn't mentioned it; hadn't mentioned seeing Heero at all. Then again, he hadn't said much at all over the last couple of days. Just yelled a lot. 'He moved out, Heero. Didn't you notice?'

'He's hardly moved out. He's staying at Wufei's. He'll come home when he feels he's made his point. '

'Heero. Get real. He moved _out_. He's moved all his stuff out. You do know about him and me, right?'

Heero shrugged. 'Yes, I'm sorry about that. He shouldn't have involved you.'

'He didn't make me do anything. And what are you sorry for?'

'He does this, Trowa. You know that. Normally, he just picks up some stranger. He shouldn't have pulled you into this. That wasn't fair. You're our friend; it's going to complicate everything when he comes back to me.'

'He's told you he's going to do that, has he?'

'Hn.. Of course he will. He always does.'

Damn, it wasn't even arrogance, that clear, cold certainty, like a man stating an immutable law of physics.

This time, Trowa actually believed it might be true.

Heero stayed for a few more minutes. He obviously felt the Duo-subject was closed, but he asked Trowa about how he was finding a new software package, and a few other work things, and suggested going for dinner some night, and then drifted off.

Trowa looked unseeingly at his monitor for a few minutes and then closed it down. He had nothing he couldn't do at home, and he needed to get out of the office.

After the Quatre-break-up conversation, after the storm, he'd really thought they'd turned some sort of corner, that he'd maybe convinced Duo of something. And then he'd had three days of Duo behaving like a bratty, cranky toddler before taking off to Berlin to attend some conference he'd never mentioned before.

He'd tried to ignore it at first, because it was what Duo did. Testing limits, pushing, probing for weaknesses. He even kind of got why. The night of the thunderstorm, they'd definitely pushed the barriers out. The sex; the conversation afterward. He'd got why Duo might be feeling a bit raw.

He just hadn't quite expected to wake up the next morning and find that Duo had turned into the boyfriend from hell.

 _Since Quatre, he's actually started to enjoy living alone, appreciating the space and the silence. Duo had stayed over before, and Trowa had loved every minute of it. Duo had been the perfect guest; cooking, being scrupulously careful to clean up after himself; adapting himself to Trowa's routine._

 _That all changes overnight. On Tuesday morning, there's blaring music in the kitchen, and a stack of dripping towels on the bathroom floor, and strands of Duo's hair coiling in the plughole._

 _He gets it; Duo's testing the limits because it's what Duo does. He'll get over it._

 _Trowa ignores it all, gritting his teeth and sliding around the Duo-generated chaos. He ignores, too, Duo blatantly flirting with the new paralegal in front of him at work, the poor guy looking alternately enraptured and terrified. When they get home, he drags Duo upstairs and does his best to screw the attitude out of him, until he has Duo melting into the sheets and moaning brokenly._

 _It doesn't last. The next morning, Duo pretty much trashes the kitchen, looking for an egg whisk, or so he claims, quite unrepentantly. Trowa's seriously, genuinely tempted to throw him out at that point, but he has a pretty clear idea that, if he does, Duo will ricochet back to Heero, just to spite the pair of them._

 _So he bites his tongue halfway off, and just nods and manages to choke down the eggs, which are somehow crunchy and slimy-raw at the same time. He even thanks Duo for cooking. Duo gives him a disbelieving stare and then bursts out laughing and gives Trowa one hell of a post-breakfast blow-job._

 _The odd thing is, this is what he'd imagined being with Duo would be like; a runaway roller coaster on acid. The way he is with Heero. It's nothing like they've had for the past couple of weeks. He can't really imagine this version of Duo watching the sunset with him, or spending hours painstakingly stripping gilt paint from the mirror he'd made Trowa buy, or browsing in a second-hand bookshop._

 _He gets the exuberant version for the next twenty-four hours. There's a barrage of utterly filthy texts during the day, all at the most inopportune times, and Duo's done something to his 'phone so he can't put it on silent. Some of them have photos attached. Very explicit photos. There's a make-out session in the hallway outside his office, which he might appreciate more if he's not fairly sure that Duo hasn't picked the precise time when Heero is walking down the corridor. Heero doesn't pay any attention, although a few of their colleagues make a dash for cover. Apparently, some guy in HR is running a book on Trowa's life expectancy, now that Heero's back._

 _Certainly, Duo seems more interested in looking over his shoulder, than in what his tongue is doing in Trowa's mouth._

 _Wednesday is the killer. As far as Trowa can tell, Duo wakes up pissed and it just gets worse during the day. Trowa gets yelled at for not having the precise brand of coffee he likes; for daring to hold a door open for him as they go into the Preventers building; for getting him a cherry Danish in the canteen at break when he knows that Duo only likes raisin or apricot, and that Duo is perfectly capable of buying his own pastries in any case.._

 _By the time they're starting for home, he's giving Heero credit for more patience than he'd ever suspected. Fuck, if he wants Duo, he's welcome to him. No wonder he's not making any effort to get him back. Probably over the moon to get rid of him and have a bit of peace._

 _Then Duo sort-of apologises in the car, claiming he's had a stressful day at work, and insists on cooking and cleaning up after. It's a roller coaster really, and he's not sure if he can put up with it for that much longer. Heero seemed to enjoy their ridiculous arguments; Trowa's not into that. Why be with someone if all you do is fight?_

 _Duo's all over him, though, before they even get to bed; when they do make it upstairs, Trowa takes his sweet time getting him ready, and gets yelled at for his pains._

' _I'm not fucking Quat. Just get on with it.'_

 _Trowa stils his fingers. 'I'm glad to know you're not fucking him. That would really complicate things.'_

' _Oh, very damn funny,' Duo growls, pushing back on his hand. 'Just get the hell on with it, would you?'_

' _I don't think so,' Trowa breathes. 'I'm enjoying this. What's the rush?'_

 _Duo wrenches free, twisting to glare at him. 'I'm not some…I don't need all that.'_

' _It's called foreplay,' Trowa says mildly. 'Look, I'm sorry if I'm not just slamming you into walls or whatever Heero does, but I like making it last. Most people enjoy it.'_

' _You don't know shit about me and Heero,' Duo snaps. 'At least, when we were together, he wasn't pretending I was someone else.'_

' _What? I don't do that!'_

' _Oh, screw you.' Duo grabs a pillow and wraps himself around it. 'Just…leave me alone.'_

' _Duo?' Trowa kisses the jut of his shoulder. 'What's wrong? Talk to me? Please? Duo?'_

' _Nothing,' Duo mutters. 'Nothing. Forget it.'_

' _Why, if nothing's wrong?'_

' _Because.'_

' _Please don't.' Duo has his head buried in the pillow, tangled hair fanning out over his shoulders. For once, he'd let Trowa pull off his hair tie without complaining. How the hell had they got from that perfect, perfect night in the thunderstorm to this? 'Duo, if I don't know what's wrong, how can you expect me to try to help?'_

' _I don't expect any damn thing from you. Why the hell would I?' He wrenches Trowa's arm off and slides out of bed. 'This is fucking stupid. I don't need all this shit, OK? I'm going.'_

' _What the hell are you talking about? Going where?'_

' _I've got an early flight in the morning.' He bent to pull on his jeans, groping under the bed for the t-shirt he'd been wearing. 'I'll get a room at the airport hotel. Save me getting up at the crack of dawn to drive from this godforsaken place.'_

' _What flight? Where are you going?'_

' _Berlin. There's a conference. I told you.'_

' _I'm pretty sure I would have remembered you telling me that.'_

' _Well, apparently not.'_

 _Trowa doesn't make a habit of losing his temper; it doesn't mean he's not capable. 'So what's the deal? You're going to do what you did whenever you and Heero had a fight? You'll run off and find some hot German guy to screw you?'_

' _That's what you think of me? Nice, Trowa.'_

' _You know I didn't mean that.'_

' _Don't I? Maybe it's what I will do. You're right, I am pretty much a slut. Might as well start charging again, since I need to start saving up for my own place.'_

' _I'm sorry I said that. people say stuff they don't mean when they're pissed. You know that.'_

' _Yeah. I think they usually say what they mean, actually.' He lifts one shoulder in a careless shrug,, twisting his hair back with one hand, snapping an elastic from around his wrist to secure it.. 'I'll see you.'_

 _It's the shrug, more than anything that does it, like Trowa's not even owed a vaguely sincere gesture, and he snaps. Before his brain's even caught up, he has Duo pinned against the door._

 _Duo lets him, hands hanging loose at his sides. His eyes are utterly devoid of any expression, any emotion whatsoever. 'So, for all your talk of not slamming me into things, here we are. What next? Going to try forcing me?'_

' _Wouldn't dare. You really think I have that much of a death wish?'_

' _You're pretty dumb, sometimes.'_

' _I wouldn't,' Trowa breathes, and has absolutely no idea what to do. He's terrified if he lets Duo go, he won't come back, ever._

' _Yeah. Yeah, I know,' Duo says finally. Even when Trowa does loosen his grip, he doesn't pull away, just leans on him. 'Tro, I just…I dunno. I need a bit of space, OK?'_

' _When do you get back?'_

' _Two days.' His mouth twists. 'Unless I score some hot stud tomorrow. Might stay over for the weekend in that case.'_

' _I shouldn't have said that. I know. Look, Duo. Just let me know when your flight gets in. OK? I'll pick you up.'_

 _Duo doesn't answer exactly, but Trowa does get a quick kiss on the cheek in passing as he walks out. He gets a text the next morning. There's no message, but the attachment has the flight details._

Quatre called the next day, just after he'd made dinner and was settled on the couch. They usually spoke on a much more regular basis, once every few days at the absolute minimum, but Quatre had been on his yearly tour of WEI subsidiaries in the colonies, and between his manic schedule and the time differences, they'd somehow been dodging each other, apart from a few quick calls.

'Hey! How's it going?'

'Well. It's going,' Quatre smiled out of the monitor. It was an expression he'd picked up from Duo. 'It's so good to finally catch you! How are you?' He looked curiously out of the screen at the pile of folders Trowa had stacked beside him on the cushions. 'I thought you never brought work home.'

'I don't, normally. Just kind of snowed under at the moment. The end of the month; we're still getting in late reports from the first quarter. You know.'

Not true, not really. Yeah, the last few days of the month were normally pretty crazy, but he was usually good at managing it. He wasn't usually spending every spare minute, and quite a few he couldn't really spare, with Duo. Or thinking about Duo.

Quatre grimaced in sympathy. 'Is there anything I can do?'

'Yeah, sure.' He gestured to the stack of folders, wondering if it was an optical illusion, or if they'd actually bred in the last five minutes. 'I could scan you some stuff. I'd need it back ASAP though.'

'Of course,' Quat said at once. 'I've more or less given up on sleep these days.'

'I'm only joking.' He was smiling though. Quatre had almost always been able to make him smile. He hated it, sometimes, that Quatre still affected him like that. And then sometimes, like now, he just wanted to bask in it, in the way Quat looked at him. Making him remember just how he'd felt when he'd been fifteen and so dizzily, disbelievingly in love for the first time.

He wasn't fifteen any more. Nor was Quatre, for that matter. He still almost looked it sometimes, especially when he'd let his hair grow out a bit.

It was at the shorter end of the spectrum at the moment; he'd clearly had it cut for the trip. He looked his age for once, with those smudges under his eyes; he hadn't been joking about the not sleeping, and those two little vertical furrows between his brows. He hadn't had those at fifteen. Too long since he'd been Earthside; his skin had that pale, papery-dry look it took on when he'd been in space.

Anyone else would have looked washed-out, faded. The pallor just made his eyes look bluer than usual; the desk on his lamp gilded his too-short hair to a soft, buttery-gold. He was in the library, the room his father had used as a study, so of course Quat did too. He'd never changed anything; just added a couple of framed photographs, but otherwise he'd left the room as it had been when he'd been a child, the room he'd been summoned to for any transgressions by a father who'd never valued him; who'd only ever wanted to make him into a neat replica of himself.

'You look wrecked, Quat.'

'Oh, thank you, Trowa,' the blond said smartly. 'Well. I am, I suppose. I do very vaguely remember an absolutely wonderful thing called sleep. ''

'What are you doing calling me if you're so tired? You should be asleep,'

Quat laughed. 'Á few minutes won't make much difference. I'll go to bed soon; I just wanted to talk to you first. I've missed that.'

'Yeah, me too. You're really going to have to cut back on your schedule a bit, Quat. It's crazy, you trying to visit every brick WEI owns in a few weeks. You're not as young as you used to be.'

'I _know_.' Quat agreed solemnly. 'Twenty-five, almost. Quite decrepit. And it _is_ tough, but honestly, it's easier just to get it all over in one go. And people expect it now.'

And it was the way his father had done it, Trowa added in his head.

'So. How're things otherwise?' Trowa asked, a neat formula which just skirted the edges of all the things in Quatre's life which he didn't really want to know about, but felt he should make a token effort to sound interested in.

'Oh, fine,' Quatre said, obviously not wanting to talk about said _things_ either. 'Actually, there's no one else here. It's glorious. Such peace.'

That was sad, if you thought about it. Quatre had always been the sociable one. It hurt, just a little, to imagine him rattling around his deserted mansion, glad of the silence.

'I shan't be here for long, this time,' he went on. 'I've got meetings on Earth next week. Budapest. I know you're busy and I don't know what your schedule is like but…'

'Let me know the details,' Trowa said instantly. 'I'll swing something, even if it's just for a couple of days.'

'Oh, I'd love that. It's been far too long since I've seen you.'

Over two months, Trowa thought. Back before any of this had happened.

'I don't suppose you've spoken to Duo at all? I've been trying to call him for a week, but I seem to keep missing him.'

There it was; the perfect opening. He fluffed it. Partly, like he'd told Duo, he wanted to tell Quat in person. Partly, though, he wasn't sure if there was anything to tell, any more, since that last row.

'He's away, I think,' Trowa hedged. 'I think someone said something about a conference in Berlin. He should be back in a day or so,' he said vaguely, as if he didn't have the flight time and number in his 'phone. 'So. How was the Grand Tour anyway?'

'Oh, the usual. Whole nations laying tribute at my feet,' Quatre said grandly and laughed, that sound that always made the universe just a little brighter. 'The new mining consortium on L1 gave me these, at least.' He held one wrist closer to the screen so Trowa could see the cufflinks he was wearing. They were hideous, like little chunks of rock, but Quat would probably end up wearing them for years, until someone gave him something even worse. 'And the miners' school children sang a song in my honour. It was quite mortifying.'

'Sucks to be you,' Trowa commiserated. 'No nubile young virgins brought to your tent for deflowering?'

'Not a one.' Quat let the corners of his mouth hook down for a second and then laughed again. 'Just the cufflinks. And some rather limp roses.' He lay back in his chair, closing his eyes briefly.

Trowa didn't say anything, just lounged back against his cushions and watched him. They'd always had those shared little moments of silence, neither of them needed to speak. He and Duo weren't really there yet, although they'd almost done it, a couple of times. Duo was better than he expected, really, at silence. Way better than he'd been at fifteen.

Quatre opened his eyes, looking back at him. 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing. Why?'

'I don't know…I just thought you looked sad.'

'Just tired, I guess. I'm OK. '

Quatre gave him a look, but then let it go, and they talked about nothing much for another half-hour or so, and then he went to bed and tried resolutely to think about work and Duo.

He was at the airport an hour early two days later, just in case Duo's flight miraculously landed ahead of time, and bought an over-priced liquid that claimed to be coffee, and a newspaper and tried not to fidget too much as he waited by the barrier. Duo looked like he was going to blank him at first, then changed direction at the last second so his trolley almost ran over Trowa's foot.

'What the hell was that for, Maxwell?' He kept his voice down, mindful of being in a crowded place.

Duo swung the trolley at him again; this time, the handle just glanced off his hip. 'What do you fucking _think_ , Barton?' he snapped, clearly having no compunction whatsoever about having a very loud row in public. 'Couldn't wait 'til I was out of the country, could you? Yeah, I know what you've been up to. All those cosy little bed-time chats with Quat. Making plans to rush off and see him the minute he's back on earth. Did you think he wouldn't tell me, you asshole? He's my friend; we talk about stuff. Or did you just not care? This supposed to be your way of letting me know you don't want me any more 'cause you've got the guy you really want back?'

' _Stop_ that,' Trowa grabbed his arm, dragged the trolley to a halt. 'You're being an idiot, and we're not having this row here. I'm not talking to you when you're like this. Now. Taxi rank over there,' he pointed. 'I'm parked in the underground garage. Your choice.'

He counted Duo's breaths as he considered. When he reached out and pushed the down button on the lift door, Trowa let himself breathe out.

He opened the car door for Duo, who was juggling a suitcase and a laptop bag and a suit carrier, and got sworn at for his pains.

'I know how to open a fucking door. I'm not Quat, needing some flunky to do everything for me.'

'It's pretty obvious you're not Quat. He has manners at least,' Trowa said coolly. He got in the car, leaving Duo to sort himself out, and get in or not or whatever the hell he wanted.

He got in.

'Where do you want to go? Wufei's place? The lighthouse? Your jeep's at Preventers, right? You want to go there? Or back to Heero?'

'I actually don't give a toss, Trowa.' He said it without any inflection at all, staring straight out the windscreen. 'Screw it. Just drop me outside the Arrivals building. I'll get a cab somewhere.'

'I see. Is this us breaking up?'

'Not much to break, is there? We fucked a few times. Oh, yeah, and you made me breakfast in bed that morning. Not exactly like we need to call in our legal teams to divide up our joint assets.'

'There's the mirror,' Trowa countered. 'I paid for it, but you're the one who's been working on it.'

'I don't want the damn mirror.'

'You think I do? I didn't want it in the first place, but you twisted my arm, and now it's even worse than it used to be, with half the gold paint off it. You're not leaving it cluttering up my place.'

'Oh, fuck, Tro.' Duo gave him a strangled little travesty of a laugh and, just like that, all the tension seemed to melt away.

'Welcome back.' Trowa got in a kiss without getting his tongue bitten off although Duo did give him a moderately vicious glare. 'Lighthouse?'

'Yeah. 'Kay.'

They drove in silence for the first thirty minutes, then Trowa pulled off the road to a viewpoint overlooking the sea. He didn't really want to have this conversation at home, where there'd be too many reminders of it if things went bad, and maybe Duo would prefer somewhere more neutral. 'Want to stretch my legs a bit,' he said, by way of explanation. Duo nodded, falling into step beside him.

'So? Talk?'

'Yeah.' Duo lifted one finger to his mouth, worrying with his teeth at a hangnail. 'It was kind of a giant kick in the teeth, talking to Quat last night. Hearing him talking all about you guys making a nice little romantic assignation. Were you even going to fucking tell me?'

'Of course I was! Duo, come on. It's not _a romantic assignation_ , whatever the hell that is. I told you I wanted to meet up with Quat, to tell him about us. I was going to tell you about it once I saw you. Honestly, it's not like I could have kept it a secret, even I'd wanted to. He would have told you.'

'Well, he did.' Duo mulled that over. 'It fucking _sucked_ , Trowa. Listening to Quat gushing about how much he was looking forward to seeing you again, and all the stuff he was planning for you guys, and it was pretty damn obvious what he was expecting, and me sat there not having a clue what was going on.'

'I'm sorry, really. I should have called you.'

He'd had all sorts of excuses not to. Time differences. Duo undoubtedly being busy and strapped for time. That they hadn't parted that well and maybe they both needed a bit of space to themselves.

All good, logical reasons, neatly lined up in a row.

Nothing about how he'd wanted to hug that conversation with Quat to himself for just a little while. The way he'd smiled. The prospect of seeing him.

Bad, bad things.

'Is that how it'll always be?' Duo demanded. 'Quat snapping his fingers and you rushing off 'cause you can't survive two weeks without breathing the same air as him? I'm not going to live like that.'

'It's been months since I've seen him, actually,' Trowa said very precisely. 'And I've survived perfectly well. I could have met up with him somewhere in space, if I'd wanted to see him that badly. I said I'd go to Budapest 'cause it's convenient, way easier than me flying off to L4, and I do need to talk to him. You know that.'

'I guess,' Duo muttered, still not looking exactly enthralled.

'You could come,' Trowa offered; a sudden impulse.

' _Seriously_?'

'Yeah, why not? It'd be fun. Taking a trip.'

'Maybe,' Duo considered, staring at him. 'Dunno if I can take time off work. I'm kind of swamped this week. You really want me to?'

'Absolutely.' It had been a bit of a throwaway comment, really; something to stop Duo looking like that. But it _would_ be fun, the two of them going somewhere, and it would maybe be better, easier, to tell Quat together. Duo might do it, even.

'Oh. OK. Um, I can look at getting time off, maybe.'

'Good.' He leaned in to kiss Duo properly; this time, Duo let him. 'Better?'

'Yeah.' Duo tangled their fingers together. 'I maybe kind of freaked out. And just possibly over-reacted a teeny bit.'

'A bit, yeah. You tried to break my foot with that damn trolley.'

'Better behave yourself in future, Barton, so.'

'Yeah.' He swung their joined hands, and then pulled Duo properly against him. 'I'm sorry. honestly. I should have called you, let you know what was going on.'

'Yeah,' Duo echoed. 'I could've talked to you first, before going off bull-headed.'

'Mmm. Duo, can I ask you something? Heero said something to you, didn't he? About me.'

He'd been thinking about it. The morning after the lightning-thunderstorm-sex, Duo had certainly been a bit on edge, more jagged than usual, but nothing all that remarkable. Then he'd apparently spoken to Heero at work that day, and it had all gone wrong.

'He didn't do anything; just laid out a couple of facts.'

'What facts?'

'Nothing I didn't know. Like you're still hung up on Quat.'

'Duo. We talked about this.'

'We did, yeah. And you know what? It was pretty obvious that you're still into him.'

'I fell for him when we were fifteen, Duo. And yes, part of me is still in love with that boy, but that's not who he is now. He was just – I'd never met anyone like him before. Ever. I couldn't believe that someone like him would even look at someone like me, never mind anything else.'

'FYI, Trowa, if this is supposed to be you convincing me you're over him, it's kind of an epic fail so far.'

'Just listen, OK? I'm trying. I thought…everything about him was magical, all the things he knew, the stuff he could do. The way he looked at me. Everyone else in my life thought I'd only ever been a whore or a weapon or something to be used, but Quat, he wanted to be my friend, and I'd _never_ had that, Duo. Never. It was like I'd dreamed him, except I'd never dared imagine anyone like that. Not caring about me.'

'Yeah,' Duo muttered sourly. 'I get it. And, just so you know, this story still sucks.'

Trowa actually laughed. 'I know. But I'm trying to give you some background. That was the way it was, Duo. A total fantasy, except it was real, and then it wasn't and now I'm here and you are and he isn't. Yeah, I am kind of still into him, but the guy he used to be. Not who he is now. I don't know who he even is, most of the time. What he actually wants. I won't be running back to him,' he added softly. 'Seriously. That's not going to happen, ever. He's changed; I've changed. We're not the people we were when we were fifteen. When we were together, he was always the one who called the shots, you know. Always. I'd have gone along with anything in the universe, anything he wanted, just to be with him. That's not me any more.'


	9. The Blue Danube

**Note: Many thanks to everyone who has been kind enough to review this story, and especially the person who coined the wonderful term 'Quatcation'! So, here is Trowa off on his Quatcation…**

 **Chapter 9 - The Blue Danube:**

The Winner Travelling Circus was in full swing when he walked into the hotel lobby. Bodyguards on point, and a couple of young women glued to their phones, speaking urgently in low voices. Undoubted signs that the man himself was on his way. Trowa got a couple of suspicious glances until Rashid gave him a nod. He was a couple of hours earlier than planned; he propped himself against a wall and sent Duo a quick text and then waited for Quatre.

Quatre and accessories, he amended, when the lift descended. Shit. He even had the kid with him; he hadn't mentioned that he was bringing him. The kid, the nanny, more guards in sharp suits; a couple of harassed-looking assistants in even sleeker suits.

Quatre himself was the most casual person out of all of them, in jeans and a pale blue fleece. Stylishly casual clothes that undoubtedly had cost more than Trowa's entire wardrobe. He had Auri on his hip, and one of the assistants trotting alongside, pointing out something on the tablet Quat was holding. He was listening to Auri's babble, and trying to look at the screen in his hand, and didn't even notice Trowa until he was almost level with them. Then he looked up and dropped the tablet and almost dropped his son, and just looked at Trowa with one of those unguarded expressions he didn't let out very often these days.

Fuck.

It never got any easier.

He pulled Quat against him, not wanting anyone else to see that look. 'Hey, shrimp. Quat.' He ruffled Auri's curls and leaned in to give Quat a swift peck on each cheek, and then a slightly more lingering kiss on the corner of his mouth. Something he wouldn't have dared to do when they'd been together, but the break-up had actually had a couple of unexpected benefits. Failing to give a shit about Quat's family and their damned protocols was chief of them.

Quatre was pink-cheeked when he let him go. 'Goodness. How very European of you.'

'Well. We are in Europe,' Trowa pointed out blandly.

Quat made a face at him, and then suddenly seemed to remember his dignity, and where they were. 'Have you just arrived? It's wonderful to see you, and so early! I didn't think you'd be here for hours yet.'

'Got an earlier connection in Paris,' Trowa explained. 'Where are you guys all off to?'

'We were just going to go down to the river before it gets dark, to see the ships. Will you come, or do you want to see your room?'

'Tough choice,' Trowa teased, pretending to consider. 'I'll come with you, I guess. Try to keep you out of trouble.' His eyes flicked to Quatre's entourage and Quat gave one of those choked little laughs and then looked down at the child on his hip, and the tablet at his feet in three distinct parts, and gave a carefully-feigned little grimace of helplessness. His well-trained staff immediately swooped into action. The nanny smoothly took Auri into her arms, and the assistant dived forward to pick up the pieces of his little gizmo, and then it was just the two of them with no distractions and each and every member of the Winner retinue suddenly looking anywhere but at their employer and the man who'd kissed him. Trowa was tempted to do it again, properly this time, but Quat knew him way too well and had already taken a pre-emptive step back.

'Yes,' Quatre said. 'Well. If you've quite finished mauling me in public and embarrassing every single member of my staff, shall we go?' He was obviously doing his best to sound tart, but there was a definite glint in his eyes that made Trowa grin down at him. Anyway, he'd never objected to a bit of recreational mauling.

The walk through the lobby was a royal progress. He forgot, sometimes, what Quat's life was like nowadays, especially when he had Auri with him. They shed most of the hangers-on along the way, keeping the kid and the nanny and the assistant with the broken tablet, who didn't look like he was overly happy to tag along, but wasn't sure of leaving the royal presence without being officially dismissed. He was cute, inevitably. They always were. Trowa sometimes wondered if Quatre chose his own assistants for their ornamental value, or if someone in HR thought he'd appreciate having eye candy around.

They made it as far as a conservatory leading out to the terraced gardens which fell to the river, and then had to stop for the security guards to fan out before them, securing the perimeter. Quatre didn't betray his irritation at the delay by so much as the flicker of an eyelash, though Trowa knew him well to know just how much he hated it all. Auri just watched, obviously used to this. Shit. He was two, and he already thought this palaver was a part of normal life.

'Come on,' he ordered suddenly, taking Quat's arm, and pulling him outside. The security guards didn't like it, very obviously, but he didn't give a fuck. He could protect Quat from any dangers which might be lurking in a hotel garden. Hell, Quat was more than capable of protecting himself. Once, he wouldn't have waited 'til he got some stupid signal. He probably wouldn't have now, except he had Auri with him; he never minded taking chances if it was just him.

He'd been the despair of his security forces for years. He'd either flat-out refused all but the most basic precautions, or else simply sneaked off when he felt like it. That had all changed with Auri's birth, and it was beyond stupid, beyond petty, but it was something else he couldn't help resenting the kid for. One more millstone around Quat's neck. That was what fatherhood had done for him, hemming him about with even more restrictions.

Walking with a toddler was pretty much how he'd expected. Covering the first ten meters from the hotel took as many minutes, with Auri stopping to peer at every crack in the pavement and every blade of grass. Then he clamoured to be picked up and carried. Not by any of the phalanx of doting adults around him, who would have leaped at the chance to take him, but by the one person who didn't want to.

'Uncle Trowa's tired, dearest.' Quatre bent down to talk to his son. Typical Quat, thinking he could reason with a cranky two-year-old. Just for a second, as he leaned over the boy, Trowa saw his jacket skim over the bulge in the small of his back. 'Do you remember me telling you? He had a very long flight to come here and see us.'

Auri's bottom lip stuck up, ominously. Trowa had spent enough time with Cathy's girls to know what that meant.

'It's OK. I don't mind taking him.' It wasn't that he had a major problem with the little boy. He was bright and cute and funny and most of the time, now at least, he didn't smell too bad. It was just hard, sometimes, to look at him, and think if Ariel Ahmed Rashid Winner didn't exist, if Quat hadn't needed an heir so much, they might still be together.

'Would you?' Quat's face lit up. 'He'd be thrilled. He's so fond of you.'

Trowa didn't really think that the kid could be all that attached to a man he'd maybe met a dozen or so times in his life, some of them when he'd been too small to register anything. Still, he'd spent approximately forty per cent of his life trying to make Quat happy and old habits died hard. That particular habit had apparently transferred to the next generation. Great. He'd be in thrall to the Winners for ever.

He scooped Auri up. It was about three months since he'd seen the boy, and he'd apparently doubled in weight. 'The size of you! Quat, you're feeding him too much.' He gave Auri a gentle poke in the stomach, producing squirms and giggles and then upended him and poked him again. Imagine that. He was ticklish in all the same places as his father.

Quatre was looking at them with that soft-edged smile which generally presaged a tsunami of sentiment. Uh oh. He turned the kid right way up, and set off briskly down the path, warding off any incipient gooiness.

If Quat had wanted to play Happy Families with Trowa, he'd had his chance, years ago. Trowa had got, kind of, Quat's need for an heir to the business. He'd even dimly recognised that, beyond that, Quat had actually wanted fatherhood. He'd been willing for them to look at adoption or surrogacy or whatever. Hell, he'd have gone out and stolen a damn kid from somewhere if that was what the only way for them to get one.

He put Auri down on the little terrace beside the river and Quatre knelt at his feet to point at the castle on the other side, at the boats floating on the shining blue waters; to warn him not to go too close. That was never going to work anyway. Couldn't show a kid a shiny treasure like that, and not expect him to run towards it, want to grab it with both hands Auri nodded solemnly to whatever Quat was saying, obviously not paying any attention but knowing what adults expected, and immediately took off to drown himself .

'He's turning into a real little boy.' Trowa commented, sitting down on a bench and watching Auri head across the grass as a speed he couldn't have managed back in March. In the last few months, he'd sloughed his generic baby blobbishness, and you could already see him turning into a miniature Quat. He had his father's exact bone structure, although the colouring was off. His hair was a darker blond, a shade that would probably turn to light brown eventually, and his eyes, having cycled through a few colour changes, had settled on a bright, clear greeny-hazel. 'Fast too. He's got your turn of speed.'

Quatre groaned, joining him on the seat and closing his eyes briefly. He opened them after about two seconds though, tracking his son. 'Don't. Please. We'll have to start putting him on a lead or something. He just takes off and he can vanish in about two seconds.'

'You're being pretty relaxed about him now,' Trowa said, a bit surprised by the fact that Auri was being allowed within two miles of a river, alone, when Quat had spent most of his first year hovering anxiously. He stretched one arm along the top of the bench, and Quat, probably not even realising he was doing it, immediately moved closer to him. Not quite touching; not too far from it.

The nanny looked around and gave him a quick, sly wink. Trowa promptly winked back. He liked Megan. She was a tough, cheerful Aussie with a wicked sense of humour. Quat's family hated her, naturally. Not nearly deferential enough for them. She did call Quat Mr. Winner, but it was laced with a certain amount of irony, and she contradicted him when she felt like it, and generally treated Auri's illustrious father with the same amount of respect as the two-year-old child. Quat adored her, but then he'd always liked stroppy women.

'I'm trying, honestly,' Quatre sighed. 'He needs space, I do know that. I don't want him to grow up feeling he's being restricted all the time. He needs to have some sort of freedom.'

The illusion of it anyway, Trowa amended, given that the kid had Megan and Rashid and a couple of guards close enough to forestall any disasters. Still, Quat _was_ trying. Trowa even got why he was trying so hard to give Auri his little freedoms, his small rebellions.

Give him enough space and he might not want to run off at fifteen to fight a war.

'You never said you were bringing him with you.'

'Oh.' Quatre twisted to look at him. 'I hadn't planned to, but Sura and I were both going to be away at the same time, and I don't like leaving him at home without one of us being there. You don't mind, do you? He'll be with Megan most of the time.'

'It's OK.' Trowa shrugged, knowing he wasn't being terribly gracious about it. Still, maybe it was for the best. Auri would be a distraction if nothing else.

'This is so lovely.' Quatre lifted his face up to catch the last rays of the dying sun, and closed his eyes again. Kept them closed this time. It took physical effort not to lower his arm, pull him even closer. ''I do miss Earth so much.'

'Move back,' Trowa suggested. 'You're here half the time anyway.'

Quatre opened his eyes and took a quick glance around, checking no one was within earshot. 'I'm thinking about it.'

'Really?' That was a surprise. Quat was always saying he missed living on Earth, but in that wistful, hopeless sort of way that meant he wouldn't do anything about it because he didn't think his wishes actually counted for anything.

'Really, in that I'm considering it as a serious option, yes. Like you say, I spend a lot of time here. And I'd like Auri to grow up here. He'd have so much more freedom than on L4. He could just be himself, rather than the boy who's going to inherit WEI.'

'Which he is.'

'One day, yes. Not yet. I want him to have a childhood. Friends. To go to school with other children. A normal life. Everything I never had. He won't have any of that on L4. I see it already, people treating him differently. My household staff let him get away with all sorts of things, even when he's being a brat. That's not how I want him to grow up.'

'Where would you go? And what does Sura think?'

'New York or London, most probably. They'd be the most practical places. I have no idea what Sura thinks. She'd like it, I imagine. We'd all be a lot less restricted, really.'

Ouch. There was a thick layer of bitterness underlying that statement. Quat didn't talk about his wife much, but they generally seemed to get on well enough. Well enough for two people who led largely separate lives, overlapping only when it came to their son, and occasional high profile joint outings.

He dropped his hand to squeeze Quatre's shoulder, and Quat leaned into his touch. 'Talk about it, angel?'

'Later, yes. Please. Just wait 'til he's in bed. Then we can talk properly.'

Easier said than done. There was a walk along the river first, and then a light supper for Auri, and then the merest mention of bed produced an epic tantrum. In Trowa's opinion, the kid was over-tired and over-excited and needed nothing more than a good clip on the bottom. He'd have cried himself to sleep in two minutes. All the fussing and attention was making him worse as Quat doled out stories and soft toys and cuddles and promises of treats for good little boys.

Trowa hovered at the bedroom door for a couple of minutes, and then wandered back to the sitting room. The suite was horrendous; all red velvet and gilding. It felt like being inside one of Relena's more ornate crowns. He was flicking through the hotel menu when Quatre came in, looking for a particular blue rabbit which was apparently Auri's talisman against night terrors. Trowa obliging joined in the hunt and found the thing squished behind a pile of Quatre's folders. Bloody kids.

'Thank you,' Quatre caught it one-handed when he lobbed it over, and gave him an apologetic little smile. 'I'm so sorry. He's almost asleep, he just wanted Bluey, and then I just have to see a couple of people about tomorrow. I promise, it won't take long.'

'It's OK. You want something to eat? I might order dinner now.'

'Please. Salmon with pasta. And something ridiculously indulgent like chocolate soufflé. It's been a long day; I need calories.'

'You'll get fat, like the shrimp,' Trowa teased.

Quatre stuck his nose in the air. 'My son is neither a crustacean nor fat.'

Trowa laughed and picked up the 'phone. As it happened, neither of the items Quat wanted were on the room-service list, but then Quatre Winner, with his own private chefs, had never really got the concept of menus. Trowa went off-menu himself, and hung up, feeling a slight pang of guilt when he thought of the chef's probable reaction to having to produce a Malaysian seafood curry for Mr. Winner's guest. The hell with it. Quat was presumably paying enough.

Midway through, Trowa went and got himself a bottle of wine from the bar in the adjoining room, and just sat back, watching Quat's life ebb and flow about him. God, it brought back memories of that first year of him being CEO, determined that somehow he could run his company and have Trowa in his life and keep his family happy.

First the head of his PR – Trowa could never remember her name – about some media interview Quat was meant to give; followed by Rashid who wanted to go over security precautions, and then Megan, back to assure him that Auri was fast asleep, and finally the cute assistant from earlier, with papers to sign, and a question about the next day's schedule.

Give the guy his due, he was obviously willing to leave straightaway, but Quat had to do the small talk thing, and because he was never happy unless he was micro-managing someone, making sure he'd had dinner, and was happy with his accommodation.

In the end, Trowa walked him to the door before Quat could ask him to stay to eat with them, and shut it firmly behind him, before going back to his sofa and his wine.

'Oh, dear.' Quatre stretched and laughed. 'If anyone else tries to get through that door, I hope you'll shoot him.'

'For real?'

'Well.' He thought about it. 'Not Auri. Not unless he's having another tantrum. Oh, I don't mean that.'

'I know you don't.' He caught Quat's hand as he walked past, heading for the armchair, and pulled. Quatre resisted for a second, no more, and then let Trowa tug him down onto the sofa and curled against him.

'There you are,' Trowa murmured. 'Finally.' He pressed a quick kiss to the little furrow between Quatre's brows, and slid a hand down his back.

'Trowa? What are you…? Oh.'

Trowa held up the gun. 'Any special reason for this?'

'All the usual ones. You know.'

'Any specific one?' It wasn't all that unusual for Quat to carry a weapon, but he rarely did so around the kid.

He looked up. 'I'm told there's to be a demonstration tomorrow. There could be trouble.'

'A demonstration against you?'

'Partly me, yes.' He sighed, letting Trowa settle him back down. 'WEI is starting a joint initiative with the government here. Mining. We're providing some of the finance. It's not popular. Strip-mining in a national park.'

'Shit, Quat.'

'I know, Trowa. I _know_. I hate it. I voted against it, I've been trying to push for alternative methods, but we're supplying less than ten per cent of the finances for the entire project. It doesn't entitle me to much say in anything.'

'Pull out?' Trowa suggested. 'You can't have known about this from the start.'

'It was always a possibility. I believed it was so remote as not to worry about, which was my mistake. And we're too committed at this stage. We can't get the reputation for pulling out of projects at the last minute, especially not with a government. I did suggest it to the board but I was over-ruled. It's awful though. It makes a total mockery of everything I've been doing to make WEI an environmentally-responsible company. How are we supposed to have any sort of credibility after this? We already have environmental groups calling for global boycotts.'

'It's not your fault.'

'No, but I'm still a nicely visible target. So much easier to protest against an evil capitalist colonial coming to rape one's country, rather than one's own government.'

'Specific threats?'

Quatre just shrugged. The answer was obvious anyway; he didn't normally travel with this level of security, even when he had Sura and Auri with him.

'No wonder you're tense.'

'It's been a rather long day. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to have to sit through all that.'

'It's not a thing. I was enjoying the view. He's hot, that new assistant.'

'Do you think so? He's quite frighteningly efficient. I'm terrified of him.'

'Not what I said. Quat, seriously, aren't you ever tempted?'

'I wouldn't dare. It would be a quite insane risk. Not unless it was someone whom I totally trusted.'

Trowa picked up his wine glass again, but didn't drink, just held it carefully. 'As a not entirely smooth segue, you were going to tell me about you and Sura. You're having problems?'

'Yes. For a while now.'

Trowa nodded; he'd picked up hints here and there. The surprise would have been if they hadn't. Fuck, you couldn't just take two people, two total strangers, who had virtually not one thing in common beyond belonging to the same species, and expect them to make a life together.

Quat clinked a fingernail against the wine glass. 'May I? Please?'

'You don't drink.' He handed the glass over anyway.

'A little wine sometimes.'

He gave the glass back and Trowa poured in another glug from the bottle. 'Since when?'

'Since Auri. The terrible twos, I think it's called. He's so exhausting sometimes.'

'It's a long way, taking him here for such a short time. He's probably wrecked.'

'I know. But Sura suddenly decided to visit a school friend. I thought he might enjoy coming here.'

'I guess.'

Quatre took the glass for another sip, and then sat up abruptly as someone knocked on the door.

'Probably dinner. Want me to shoot whoever it is?'

'No!' Quatre said firmly. 'I'm starving.'

It was dinner, borne in silver salvers by a train of no less than six waiters, and accompanied by the head chef, who went through the whole rigmarole of explaining each dish and how it had been prepared, and showed an alarming tendency to want to stay and watch them eat. Trowa cut that off by opening the door pointedly, and gesturing, not very politely.

'That was most horribly rude!' Quatre was laughing though, as he picked up his fork. 'The poor man!'

'Tough.' He poured another glass of wine, and offered it to Quat. 'So, tell me. What exactly is going on with you and Sura?'

'What's to tell? You know most of it. It's hard on her. She went from being a daughter in her parents' house straight to being my wife, and Auri's mother. She was only eighteen and didn't have much say in any of it. Then she was so sick when he was born, and… I don't know. I don't see her very much these days, actually. She's always away seeing family or friends, or on shopping trips or whatever else she does.'

'Does she have someone else?'

'No.' Quatre twirled pasta around his fork, considering. 'At least, I don't think so. She's just not very happy. Neither of us is. We hardly even see each other any more.'

'What are you talking about then? Divorce?'

'Nothing so formal, I hope. Possibly separate households, for a while anyway. We spend so little time together; it would hardly make a difference. We haven't really talked about it. Anyway. I don't know. I don't want Auri's life to be too badly disrupted, that's the main thing.'

'Yeah, I guess.' The curry wasn't bad, just a bit bland. Trowa ate his way through it, watching Quat pick at his pasta, and the accompanying salad. More pushing the food around his plate than actually eating.

'Is it OK?'

'Sorry?' Quatre took a second to catch up. 'Oh, it's fine. Delicious. I'm just not as hungry as I thought I was.'

'And are you OK?'

'Not really. Tired more than anything. I'm very glad you're here.'

'Me too.' He draped an arm around Quat, properly, the way he'd wanted to outside. and pulled him into a comforting hug. 'Don't look so sad. It'll work out. The whole Sura thing.'

'Will it? Really? I rather doubt it.'

Trowa shrugged. She'd been chosen by his family; a pretty young girl from the right background, who'd been raised from birth to be the perfect wife, who was all wrong for him. 'It might be good for both of you, moving away from L4. A fresh start.'

'I suppose,' Quat said indifferently, going back to poking at his food. 'Maybe.'

Something suddenly clicked into place. Quat was a decent enough actor, good at hiding his emotions when he had to. Not that good though. In the space of minutes he'd revealed that Sura might be leaving him, that the marriage was probably over.

He was being far too damn calm for a person who was all about fixing things, pleasing other people, finding solutions, and he was apparently willing to let his wife walk away from him without a murmur.

'Quat.' He said it so softly, although there was no one to overhear, asking a question he already knew the answer to. 'Have you met someone else?'

Quatre didn't answer. He didn't remotely need to.

It stung, ridiculously. Yeah, Quat had started the beginning of the end, but Trowa had been the one to walk away, and then he'd ended their affair, just after Auri's birth, putting himself so deliberately out of Quatre's way because he'd thought it would help.

And Quatre had gone off and found someone else.

'Want to tell me about it?'

'Oh, there's nothing to tell.' Quat picked up his wine glass and looked at the contents. 'Truly. It's just … someone I like. Nothing's ever going to come of it. He's involved with someone else, and I can't anyway.' Quatre carefully twined a ribbon of fettuccine around the prongs of his fork, and then put it down. 'I've made a total mess of everything, haven't I?'

Trowa closed Quatre's fingers about his fork. 'Eat something. That chef will probably kill himself if he thinks you didn't like it.' He waited for Quatre to take an obedient mouthful. 'I don't know, Quat. You got what you wanted, right? Your company; the kid.'

'I lost you.' Quat gazed down at his bowl of pasta as if it might hold answers. The pasta gazed back blandly. 'Trowa. If I moved back here, to Europe, we could….see each other more often. Couldn't we? I was thinking, I could buy a holiday home in Sanc. Somewhere remote, where we could be together. Just us.'

A remote castle or hunting lodge, yeah. Going back to all that secrecy and paranoia and exhaustive precautions before every meeting. He'd had two years of it, after Quat's marriage, and then the occasional indiscretion since he'd supposedly finished it.

He'd had just a few weeks of having Duo in his life, in contrast. Duo kissing him in public and driving up to the lighthouse and sitting with him in the canteen at work.

'Quat. I've been seeing Duo. For a few weeks now.'

He'd meant to tell Quatre at some point. It was the whole point of being here. He hadn't meant to blurt it out like that, but really there was no easy way. And it stopped Quat looking at him like that, laying out his latest plans for how he wanted the world to be.

He'd known anyway. That was pretty damn obvious.

'Who told you?'

'I don't think it matters. Does it?'

'Guess not.' He took a slug of wine. 'That was a fairly staggering non-reaction.'

'I know. I'm sorry. You know I love you both. It's just….rather a surprise. The two of you.'

'Or not, apparently,' Trowa couldn't resist pointing out. God, if it was Wufei, he'd kill him. He'd said he wouldn't though, and it wasn't like there weren't other suspects. Half of Preventers for a start. Quat was friendly enough with some of them.

'I haven't known for long,' Quatre said quietly. 'I would…I would have liked you to tell me.'

'I wanted to do it face to face. Obviously, someone got there first.'

'It doesn't matter. It just…..it feels like the end of us.'

There were plenty of things Trowa could have said to that. Like Quatre having been the one to go off and marry someone else.

'What was I supposed to do, Quat? Sit around with my finger up my ass waiting for you to get your act together? It's not like I haven't been with plenty of other people.'

Quat knew that perfectly well. Damn, Trowa had even called him after some of those encounters, usually pissed and desperately lonely and desperate to hear even the sound of Quat's voice.

'I want you to be happy,' the blond said softly. 'Of course I do. It's just that none of the others meant anything, did they? They weren't serious.'

'I never said Duo was.'

'Duo's our friend; not some stranger in a bar. Of course it's serious.'

Trowa shrugged. 'Whatever,' he said testily. 'Not like I'm running out to buy him an engagement ring. I don't know how the fuck serious it is. We've been out a few times.'

'Goodness. He actually enticed you out of the lighthouse. He deserves some sort of award for that.'

'Ha ha,' Trowa said sourly. 'Funny, Quat.'

'I'm just joking.' He hesitated. 'I suppose …..there's Heero as well.'

'No, actually there isn't,' Trowa said coolly. 'They broke up. I'm sure you know that, since you're so damn well up in what's happening in my life.'

'Trowa, please don't be angry.' Quat lay one hand on his arm, and looked up at him beseechingly. That look he hadn't been able to resist since he was fifteen. Shit. 'I'm sorry. I just don't want you getting hurt. I love Duo but he always goes back to Heero. You know that.'

'Not this time, I don't think.' He tried to sound certain about it; to feel certain. This was Duo's best friend, the person he confided in. 'He moved out; I think maybe he's worked out that he can do better for himself, be with someone who actually wants a real relationship. Not just sex on demand.'

Quat's cheeks flared crimson. Trowa had actually meant Heero, but it was a fairly effective dig at Quat too, even if unintentional.

'I met him on L3, last week,' Quatre said sturdily. 'Heero, I mean. We had dinner together.'

'Yeah? Let me guess; as far as he's concerned, Duo's just with me to teach Heero some kind of a lesson, and he'll see sense eventually and go back to him, right? Not going to happen.'

Quat gave him one of those soulful looks, all shimmering aquamarine. Seaspray in sunlight. 'I don't want you getting hurt. That's all. And those two do always end up back together.'

'Not this time, they're not.' No fucking way was he letting Duo go; not back to Heero who hadn't a clue how to treat him. 'I'd better go,' he said finally with a well-stimulated yawn that wouldn't fool Quat for a second. 'I've been here for a few hours now. Don't want some enterprising member of staff calling the press to stay we're shacked up together, do we?'

'You could stay. No one would know. I've reserved this whole floor; there shouldn't be anyone around now, and your room is beside mine anyway. There's an adjoining door.'

Of course there was. He'd lied to Duo, weeks ago, when he'd said he'd finished it, finished the sex. He'd tried to, but in two years, there'd been a few occasions where there'd been a bit of backsliding. When it was safe enough and they were both lonely enough.

Trowa breathed out, took a long, careful mouthful of wine. 'What would it involve, exactly, me staying?' he asked levelly.

'Anything you liked.'

'And what would happen in the morning? I'd get rid of the condoms and shove the sheets down the laundry chute so no one could check them for stains, and then skulk back to my room and mess up my own bed and hope no one saw me? I remember the drill,' he added bitterly. 'Thanks but no thanks, Quat. I get that you don't have a problem cheating on whoever you happen to be with, but I do.'

He meant it to make Quat angry, to exterminate any thoughts of seduction that were floating around in that blond head too close to his; far, far too close. Trowa could smell the synthetic lemon soap he'd used to wash his hands. It always undid him, that smell. The fact that Quatre, one of the richest people in the universe, invariably used a cheap generic brand of soap, just because a nanny he'd once had, who'd been kind to him, had liked it. She'd been fired after a year, Quat had told him, for indulging him too much. He'd been five.

He hadn't, quite, meant it to hurt Quat so much, but it very clearly did.

'I think that's about the most horrible thing you've ever said to me.' Quat's voice was commendably level, despite the pain in his eyes.

'Duo's supposed to be your friend. You could try thinking about him.'

'You said yourself it wasn't serious.'

'Serious enough not to want to hurt him like that,' Trowa said harshly. 'You're married, Quat. I'm with someone. Let it go.'

'What if….I weren't married?'

'If you were single?' Trowa asked. 'Single and ready to be in an actual honest relationship with me; is that what you're asking?'

'You know I can't.'

'I know you won't,' Trowa said quickly, quashing the usual spiel about familial obligation and share-holders' expectations and cultural norms and the ghost of dear, dead Daddy that Quat always trotted out.

'I can't,' Quatre said wretchedly, and kissed him.


	10. Desert Symphony

Note: Apologies in advance for a quite ridiculously self-indulgent chapter: there was no way I could write this without even a little 3x4 sap (although, and purely thanks to Kaeru Shisho, it _is_ a flashback…)

 **Desert Symphony:**

 _AC 196:_

'What's this one called again?' Trowa squinted at the sheet music propped on the piano in front of him. He'd never known that you could write music down instead of just keeping it in your head, and he still couldn't quite get over it. All those little symbols that meant specific sounds. It was like magic. Magical that Quatre knew how to read them. 'D?'

'D sharp. Here.' Quatre took his hand off Trowa's leg, and leaned over to press a key. 'Like this.'

'So?' Trowa played the next few bars of the piece, loving the feel of the keys under his fingers, the ripple of sound. Quatre had replaced his hand, and it rested lightly on the curve of his knee.

He didn't think he'd ever been this happy. It was better, even, that than first night in the desert. They knew each other now. They were friends. More than friends, actually, and that was another magical thought.

Quatre called the safe-house they were all currently hiding out in a summer cottage, rather dismissively, but they obviously had very different standards, because it was by far the nicest house Trowa had ever been in. Actually four bedrooms; theirs had a bed piled high with pillows and prettily-layered quilts, and was tucked under the roof with sloping ceilings and a wooden beam across, which Trowa found impossibly charming. Best of all, there was a piano and stacks of sheet music, and Quatre had started teaching him to sight-read.

'Oh, that's lovely, Trowa,' Quatre inched closer, resting his head on Trowa's shoulder. 'You're so lucky; it took me ages to learn all the keys. And you don't even need to learn to do it, when you can play by ear. I wish I could do that.'

'You can't?'

'No, not many people can. I don't think so, at least. It's very special.'

'I thought it was just something people did.' He'd never really thought about it. Ramon, Kurt's second-in-command, who'd taught him to play the flute, had been able to do it like that. Trowa had thought that was how you were supposed to do it. 'Like making up tunes instead of playing ones other people wrote.'

'Well, you can do whatever you like really. Improvising is fun as well.' The fingers on Trowa's knee squeezed, very lightly, and then took off to dance over the piano keys.

Trowa followed him, mimicking exactly at first, just a beat later, and half a tone down, and then adding a few little twirls and flourishes of his own. Quatre picked up the pace, and they had a mad, mutual dash across the keys, racing each other, and then slowed by mutual consent, fingers brushing and then tangling together.

Quatre laughed, the way he did sometimes, just a bit breathlessly, as if he didn't want to use up too much air in laughing and breathing both, as if he didn't want to be greedy. It did something to Trowa's gut, that laugh. He usually did it only when Trowa was touching him.

'Oh, that _was_ fun.'

'Yeah.' He was breathless himself, just a bit, all his senses overloaded. He could still hear the melody they'd made in his head, almost see the notes still lingering in the air around them, woven in with Quatre's bright laughter. He could smell the lemon-scented soap he'd used in the shower. Another thing he'd never known until Quat; you could get soap that smelled of actual things, not just the rough carbolic he'd mostly used when he'd got a chance to wash. And, God, he could feel the other boy's body pressed so close to him; Quat's fingers twining with his.

He'd never known before that happiness could be a tangible thing. He'd never known much about happiness at all. The adrenalin that came for survival, sure; from killing sometimes. Small physical satisfactions that were always all too brief, like a full belly or a good sleep in a safe place, or the quick, bright thrum of orgasm.

Never anything like this.

Another thing that Quatre had given him.

'We should start writing some of these down,' Quatre went on. 'It would be such a shame to forget them. I do wish I could remember everything we played that first night.'

'I don't forget stuff like that.,' Trowa told him. 'Listen.' He lifted their linked hands, brushed a kiss across Quatre's knuckles, and then pulled his hand free to tap out a little tune on the piano. The duet they'd first played in the desert. So very tentative at first; two separate songs, and then the slow, slow dance to bring them closer.

'Oh,' Quatre breathed, looking at him with that _look_ , as if Trowa had just handed him the universe, all prettily wrapped up and tied with ribbon. 'That's so amazing, Trowa. _You're_ amazing. You know, I'm sure there's some blank sheet music somewhere; I might try writing it down, if you wouldn't mind playing for me again.'

''Course not. You can do that? Write music?'

Quatre nodded. 'I can show you, if you like. Actually, I've seen some books on the shelves here about theory and composition, things like that. You should look at them. It's awfully interesting.'

Trowa half-closed his eyes; it was incredible, really, that it hadn't come out yet. 'I don't know how to read much in English, Quat.' Not at all, really. He could identify some words all right; enough to fool most people, but not the individual letters. 'Sorry,' he mumbled, 'I'm stupid.'

'You're not!' Quatre gasped. 'Trowa, you're brilliant, truly! You're practically a musical genius, and you've got an eidetic memory and..'

'I've got a _what_?'

'It just means you can remember things,' Quatre smiled at him, and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. 'Play our tune again. Please?'

'Sure' He didn't play it on the piano though, but on Quatre's bare arm, fingers dancing up and down the pale skin. 'There. Desert symphony in Q minor.'

'Oh,' Quatre gasped, as Trowa's left hand slid under his shirt, playing a quick staccato beat on his ribs. 'You didn't do _that_ then.'

'I'm improvising. Thought you liked that.'

'Oh, _please_. Improvise me,' Quatre squirmed deliciously against him as Trowa's hand slid under his shirt, and then the inevitable happened, and they both tumbled off the stool.

'Q flat, I do believe,' Trowa teased, looking down at the boy under him.

Quatre laughed, eyes shining, and then wound both arms around Trowa's neck, pulling him down for a kiss. Such trust, Trowa thought numbly. Handed to him so freely. He ran his tongue over Quatre's lips, probing gently. Quatre's mouth curved against his, one hand stroking the back of his neck.

'OK?' They'd gone this far before, and a bit farther, but it had always been in a bed, with a locked door, and darkness. Quat wasn't exactly shy; just a bit hesitant sometimes, and Trowa got that, got that he'd never done anything like this in his life, that Trowa was the first person to touch him like that, ever.

'OK,' Quatre affirmed, and arched his hips just enough for him to rub against Trowa. It felt like a lightning bolt, flashing through his veins.

'God. Do that again. _Please_.'

'This?' There was an expression of beatific innocence on his face, wholly at odds with the movements that slim, beautiful body was making under Trowa's, or the little sounds of desire and arousal.

'That, yeah,' Trowa muttered, and suddenly a door banged in the hallway.

Trowa had started up at the first sound, hand groping for his gun, a second behind Quat, who was always just that little bit faster. After three days, though, they both knew what a door slammed by Duo Maxwell sounded like. Then the quick sounds of Duo's boots running upstairs, and a door being wrenched open. Then the inevitable shouting.

'Oh no! Not again!' Quatre said crossly, sliding his gun back into his ankle holster and letting himself fall backwards on to the floor. 'Fizz it! Honestly. If they dislike each other so much, I don't know why they can't just stay away from each other.'

Trowa grinned. 'I don't think they really dislike each other all that much, Quat.'

It had been building up for the last few days, he thought. More probably since they'd met, although as far as he knew this was the first time they'd been in the same place together for any length of time. He and Heero had gone out to do a perimeter check that morning, which inevitably meant that Duo had tagged along because he and Heero had some sort of pathological compulsion to trail after each other wherever they went, and of course they'd been bickering from the minute they'd stepped out of the house.

Trowa had tried to tune the two of them out at the start: they seemed to be rehashing some incident that had taken place a month ago, and inevitably wound up with the usual accusations of Heero claiming that Duo had shot him, and Duo yelling back something about Heero damn well raping his Gundam.

'You _shot_ me,' Heero shouted, for what was probably the tenth time in as many minutes. ' _Twice_ , Maxwell.'

'Oh, _God_.' Trowa had put one hand up to rub his temple, to rub away the headache that started to develop whenever he had to spend any length of time with those two. They were killing him, seriously. Wufei was fine; he kept to himself mostly, but when he did come out of his room, you could have a civil, sensible conversation with him. But these two were wrecking his head. He was only surprised they'd never actually stopped in the middle of a battle to yell at each other. Not yet, anyway. As far as he knew. 'Yeah, Duo. Couldn't you just find some other way to get his attention? Like kissing him?'

'What the _hell_ are you talking about?' Heero demanded. He'd gone an interesting shade of red, though, and Duo was suddenly studying the ground at his feet, both hands compulsively gripping his braid.

'Fuck, isn't it obvious? Will you two just go and screw each other and put the rest of us out of our misery having to listen to the way you carry on?'

Heero had started to bluster something, and then Duo had, predictably enough, shot off into the woods, and Heero, probably predictably enough, had taken off straight after him. He'd come back to the house not long after Trowa though, and alone, and stalked straight upstairs. If he had caught up with Duo, then it clearly hadn't gone very well.

'What do you mean?' Quatre asked. 'That they really like each other? But they're so horrible to each other all the time.'

He grinned, bending to kiss Quatre full on the mouth. 'More than like, I think, actually. '

'Oh.' Quatre blushed. 'Really? Are you sure?'

'Pretty sure, yeah.'

'Oh!' Quatre sat bolt upright, almost banging their heads together, as a new sound came from upstairs, a body colliding hard against a solid surface. That was new; they were always yelling at each other, and Heero sometimes gave Duo's braid a tug in passing, along with some snarky comment about how impractical it was, but they were normally compulsively careful not to touch each other. Idiots.

'Do you think we should go up? If they're really fighting?'

'I think Heero would shoot us. And I don't think they're fighting, actually.'

Quatre said 'oh' a third time, his skin suddenly a vivid, rosy-crimson as Duo suddenly stopped yelling curses and instead gave a low, honest-to-God moan.

Well.

Heero'd finally got it right, then.

'But they're not in love, Trowa!'

Trowa smoothed back the hair flopping over his forehead. He loved that he got to do this now, to touch him. Quatre smiled, faintly, when he drew a finger between the fair brows. 'You don't have to be.'

'Oh.' Quatre considered that for a second. 'I thought...Never mind. It's silly.'

'I think it would make it better, probably,' Trowa said awkwardly. They hadn't really ever talked about sex before. They just were – together, whenever it was possible. Quat seemed to think that they were inventing whatever they did, like no one had ever kissed or touched before. Maybe nobody ever had. Not like them.

'You think…you do think he wants it?'

'I think he's wanted it from the start, Quat,' Trowa looked into the lovely, troubled blue eyes and knew exactly what Quatre was trying to ask. 'He can look after himself, you know. And he knows we're down here. He could call if he wanted back-up.'

He didn't really believe that Duo would do anything of the sort, but it apparently satisfied Quat. Anyway, he'd seen the way Heero looked at the boy from L2, sometimes, when he thought no one was watching, and he'd talked about him once or twice when they were at the circus. Mostly bitching, admittedly, but every so often his expression had softened, just a little.

Heero wouldn't hurt him, he didn't think. Not intentionally anyway, but he seemed to be as ignorant about sex as Quat, and Duo clearly wasn't, was the sort who just kept pushing until something gave.

Duo was all hard, glittering edges jaggedly pulled over the shadows Trowa had seen once or twice, and the even rarer glimpses of a scared, lonely kid. He didn't know if Heero realised that.

Quatre flinched at a sound from upstairs, a loud creak from the bedsprings, and then the headboard banging against the wall, and Trowa couldn't help a shudder. 'Is it always like that? So - angry?'

'No! It shouldn't be like that at all.' He didn't really have much first-hand experience of how good it should be, but there'd been guys who'd paired off among the mercenaries, and there hadn't been much privacy there. He knew what good sex, happy sex should sound like. 'It should be … a good thing. Showing someone that you really love them. I think.'

Quatre was silent again, 'I … would like to try it properly. With you. One day.'

'One day, yeah,' Trowa said at once. 'Whenever you want. Anything you want. You know that.'

'Oh, Trowa,' Quatre pressed closer, dabbing kisses over his face and neck. 'I do love you.'

Trowa gave a jerky little nod. Quatre said it all the time, so naturally. Trowa had never been able to, although he said it in his head sometimes, and tried to show Quatre how much.

'One day,' Trowa repeated. 'And, you know, there's plenty of improvising we can do in the meantime.'

'I do like improvising,' Quatre purred happily. 'We were in the middle of something, weren't we?'

'Remind me?' Trowa teased, bending to take Quatre's lower lip between his teeth, loving the slick, wet feel of it, the way Quatre groaned, deep in his chest. 'What were we doing again?'

'I think you were….Oh no!' They both jerked upright at the sound from upstairs. Trowa hadn't even realised Wufei was back from checking on the Gundams, Shit. He'd never heard him come in; neither of them had.

Two shots rang out; then someone running downstairs, and then Wufei stumbled through the door, ashen. 'Maxwell and Yuy. They're…'

'We guessed,' Trowa said dryly. 'Are you all right?'

Wufei shook his head. 'Emphatically not! I thought they were killing each other. Yuy tried to shoot me!''

'He missed?' Trowa demanded incredulously, and heard Quatre give a choked-off laugh.

'Duo was…distracting him.'

'Quite effectively, apparently,' Quatre put in. 'Oh, Wufei, I'm sorry. It's not funny.'

It was, sort of, Trowa thought, imagining the scene upstairs, and then trying to keep his expression straight as he looked at Wufei's face.

'I never knew they were…like that,' the Chinese pilot stammered. 'Did you?'

'Not for a second,' Quatre assured him. 'Were they really…you know?'

'Winner!' Wufei sank on to the nearest chair, burying his head in his hands. 'Dear Gods! I thought….Yuy was hurting him.'

Quat let out a little puff of air, not quite a sigh. 'So did I, at the start.'

Trowa looked, very deliberately, at the wall. Not at Quatre. Tried not to listen to the sounds from above. 'It hurts if you don't do it right. If you're not careful.'

They were both scarlet when he finally glanced up, apparently on the verge of spontaneous combustion. Wufei looked like he might die from the embarrassment of it all, and Quatre was just looking at him. Trowa couldn't tell what he was thinking.

Wufei muttered something about going for a run and vanished; Trowa wondered if he'd ever come back.

It was just the two of them, then, Quatre perched on a chair with his arms wrapped around his knees, curled into himself. Not looking at Trowa. Not looking anywhere, really.

Shit.

'Quat. I'd never hurt you. It wouldn't be like that with us. Ever. You do get that, right?'

'Oh, Trowa. Of course I know that.'

Trowa swallowed. 'You don't know…what it can be like. Sorry,' he muttered, hating himself for putting that pain in Quat's eyes. He shouldn't ever have to look like that, shouldn't have to know the sort of darkness that existed in the world.

Shouldn't be with someone like Trowa.

That was what it all came down to, really. Quat deserved to be with someone bright and pure and beautiful. Not Trowa, who wasn't nearly good enough and never would be.

'Trowa.' He hadn't even noticed Quat standing up, but he was suddenly burrowing into Trowa's embrace. Trowa's arms went around him instinctively, holding that slim, lovely body close. 'I _love_ you,' Quat said, low and fierce and heartfelt, and kissed him.


	11. Sex on the Beach

Note: Many, many apologies for the delay in updating. New job: serious laptop issues: weekend in Paris. Normal service has now been resumed, and Trowa's back in Sanq….

 **Chapter 10 – Sex on the Beach:**

He didn't see Duo in his first glance over the crowds assembled in the Arrivals hall and it was utterly beyond stupid how that made him feel. After all, he'd been the one to text Duo to tell him not to bother coming to pick him up in the middle of a working day; that he'd get a taxi. He had a moment when he braced himself for disappointment, and then someone moved, and Duo stepped forward to the barrier. He was doing exactly the same as Trowa, his gaze sweeping the throng of people from right to left. He smiled when he saw Trowa, was still smiling when Trowa walked over.

'Hey.' He caught Duo's lips in a firm kiss. God, he'd missed that, missed just being able to touch and hold someone, without worrying about who was watching and what they'd be thinking. It might have been newsworthy, just after the war; two Gundam Pilots hooking up but, nearly ten years on, they'd managed to work themselves more or less into obscurity, except for Quat, who was always going to make headlines. He and Duo garnered a couple of glances, speculative or appreciative or disapproving, but no more so than any two guys getting physical. No paparazzi going into a feeding frenzy; if he'd ever kissed Quat like that in a public place, they'd probably both have been trampled in the stampede of people taking photos.

No one cared about him or Duo, and that was utterly glorious.

'Thanks for coming.'

'No bother,' Duo said cheerfully, his smile so bright that Trowa had to dive in and kiss the hell out of him again. 'Nice taking a half-day for once. I love airports anyway, watching people coming through the gate and looking for their friends. The way their faces light up. It's great.'

He immediately wondered if his own face had lit up like that, on seeing Duo. Probably. It was how he'd felt, inside. 'It's nice, being met.' Not something he'd had, very often. Heero and Wufei had picked him up, once or twice, if he hadn't left his car at the airport, but they'd waited outside in the parking area. He couldn't remember if anyone had ever been at Arrivals, waiting for him.

'Yeah,' Duo agreed. 'Bit of a role reversal, this time. Me picking you up.'

Trowa grinned, following him down the escalator to the underground parking. He looked great. The inevitable pony-tail wasn't as tight as usual, so there were little strands drifting around his face, and the black jeans were just the right amount of tight. Very, in other words, making his own feel suddenly constricting. God, he'd only been away for four days. 'I like you picking me up. I missed you.'

'Yeah?' Duo canted his head to look at him, mostly quizzical and a little pleased as well. 'Missed you too.'

'As in, really missed you,' Trowa slung one arm around his waist, letting his hand brush a caress against that that pert, perfect ass on the way. 'Missed the hell out of _this_.'

'Down, boy. I'm only up for so much in public.' Duo said, reaching into his pocket for his keys. He sounded amused though. 'Jeep's just over here. So, how was Budapest? And Quat? Did you have to fight him off with a stick?'

God, wasn't that uncomfortably close to the truth?

'Budapest was gorgeous,' he hedged, climbing into the jeep, and clicking his seatbelt. It was a lovely day; Duo had the hood down, and the slight breeze stirred the flyaway hairs at his temples once they drove out of the parking garage. 'You should have come; we'll have to go some time, the two of us. You'd like it, I think. I didn't actually get to see much of Quat. He had Auri with him, and his schedule was crazy. I always forget how busy he is.'

There, that was true enough. After the first night, he'd been swept on to the roller coaster that was Quat's life. He'd meandered around the city alone while Quat was busy, which was most of the time, but they'd gone to the opera, and an art exhibition, and had a private guided tour of the castle, and a boat ride with the kidlet along as a two-year-old chaperone. A whirlwind tour of all the delights of a stunning city, and Quatre had carefully orchestrated it so they were never actually alone again, apart from the few minutes when they'd said goodbye.

'Yeah, he'll give himself a heart attack one of these days if he doesn't slow down a bit,' Duo agreed, pulling out of the airport. 'I saw him on the news, talking about that new mining venture. Pretty bad publicity for WEI, huh, all those protests? I thought he gave a good interview.'

'He's pissed about it,' Trowa nodded. 'Said there was nothing he could do; that he wanted to pull out of the whole project but his board wouldn't let him.'

Duo shook his head. 'God, I love the guy, but seriously, he needs to grow a pair and work out that he can't actually please every single person in the known universe. So, in the middle of all this, you find a little window to tell him about us carrying on, as Wufei calls it?'

'Yeah, the first night. He knew, though.'

'Shit, seriously?' Duo caught his lower lip in his teeth and bit down. 'Who told him?'

'He didn't say. Not exactly a shortage of suspects, is there? We haven't been all that discreet. You haven't spoken to him then?'

'He left a couple of messages; we keep missing each other. I've kind of been waiting for you to get back to suss things out first. So, what's the deal? Did we get his blessing or what?'

'He said he's happy for us,' Trowa said carefully. 'I think it was a bit of a surprise though. That it was serious.'

'We're serious, are we?'

'I am anyway.'

Duo took one hand off the wheel and reached over to squeeze his knee. 'Me too.'

'Good,' Trowa said, meaning it. He'd expected Duo to want a blow-by-blow account of his trip and every word he and Quat had said to each other; instead, he just seemed happy to have Trowa back. 'So, how've things been here? You've moved into your new place?'

'Day after you left, yeah. Still haven't got 'round to doing much unpacking and stuff. It's great being in the centre of town though. You'll have to stay over some night; we could go out to a club or something. If you wanted.'

'I guess,' Trowa said, trying to sound a bit more enthusiastic than he felt.

'Not much happening otherwise,' Duo went on. 'Just work stuff. Oh, I met 'Fei on Tuesday for lunch.'

'How'd that go?'

'You know. I grovelled at his feet, and he admitted he'd been a bit out of order himself. We're friends again, anyway. He wanted to know if we'd have dinner with him and Zechs some night. I said I'd check with you.'

'Sounds good. Kind of a double date, yeah? I've never done that.'

'Wowsie,' Duo marvelled, sliding Trowa one of those sly, mocking grins. 'Something Trowa Barton hasn't done.'

Trowa laughed. 'Well,' he qualified, 'not unless 'Fei's become a lot more adventurous in the past few months and there's going to be an orgy after dinner. I've done that.'

Duo choked. 'You have? Oh, God. Maybe I don't want to know.'

'Not an orgy, exactly. Does a threesome count?'

'Honest? How? Where?'

'Two guys I met in a club, ages ago. They were together; I think they just fancied spicing things up a bit.'

'I bet you did that, all right.' Duo had his eyes fixed on the road, very determinedly, but his cheeks were faintly stained with colour.

'I tried to give satisfaction,' Trowa said demurely.

'I can imagine.' He pulled off the highway on to the coast road, and Trowa took a deep breath. Almost home now. It was a glorious day; the sea sparkling below them and seagulls wheeling overhead.

'God, Tro. Is there _anything_ you haven't done?'

'Duo, no offence, but you're not exactly a blushing virgin yourself.'

'Yeah, I know _that_ , but…fuck. You're like this _been there, done that_ guy when it comes to sex. I've never done half the stuff you have. A quarter, even.' He lifted one hand, and swept some loose hairs behind his ear. 'Am I…I don't know, boring for you when we're in bed? I sometimes feel I should start watching more porn, or buy up the contents of a sex shop, or hell, go and have a threesome so I know what you're talking about sometimes …'

'You are joking, right?' Trowa demanded. 'God, Duo. You're amazing, and _not_ boring, not in a million years. You want to experiment, that's not a problem. But you do it with me. Right?'

Duo flicked him a teasing little grin. 'Kind of hard to do a threesome with just you.'

'Nope. I'm very flexible. And I move fast. Honestly, I know you think I'm into all kinds of hardcore stuff, but I'm really not. Come on, I was with Quat for years, and he's probably the most vanilla person in the universe. Not like I've got a box of whips and nipple clamps under my bed.'

'I know. I've checked.' Duo pulled up, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and hopped out to open the gate to his driveway. 'So, welcome home, I guess. 'Um, Tro, I hope you don't mind, but I stayed over last night. I was finishing up the mirror, and I kind of lost track of time.'

''Course I don't mind,' Trowa said firmly. He'd had people stay over before. Quatre. Cathy and the girls; Heero and 'Fei a couple of times. Duo, of course. He'd never had anyone stay there without him being there too, but he found he genuinely didn't mind the thought of Duo being there. It was kind of nice. 'It's why I gave you the key.'

'Cool. Oh, before we go in, like I said, I got a bit focused on doing the mirror and stuff, and I didn't really have time to tidy up so the place is a bit of a mess.'

'It's OK, Duo. I don't mind.' He didn't, really. He'd had years of picking up after Quat, who'd always believed that his belongings somehow were capable of cleaning themselves, and flying back to wherever they should have been stored. After that, he didn't care that Duo occasionally left things around.

Tools, mostly, probably flea market finds; all old but diligently cared for, and a couple of books and changes of clothes. Sometimes, when Duo wasn't there, he went and touched them, little mementoes of Duo's presence in his life.

It was great to be back, really, he thought, watching the top of the lighthouse appear over the tree tops. Great that Duo was with him. Duo opened the door, and then handed him the key.

'You can take this back, now you're home.'

'Keep it, why don't you?'

Duo tilted his head. 'Sure?'

'Sure, yeah.' He hadn't really meant it to be all that significant, but it sort of was. Duo looked pleased anyway. 'Handy if you can let yourself in when I'm not here.'

'OK, thanks. So, you hungry? I thought we could maybe do a barbeque or something. I got steaks and stuff.'

Trowa shook his head. 'Later, if that's all right, unless you'd rather eat now. I had a tonne of cardboard crap on the 'plane. I'd like to take a walk actually; I've been sitting down for hours; I could do with something active. Just let me dump my bags upstairs and get changed first.'

Duo followed him upstairs; despite what he'd said, there was no real evidence of mess; just a small hold-all bag by the front door.

'Yeah, and I want to see this mirror of yours anyway.' He tried to sound keen, but he hadn't wanted the ugly damn thing in the first place, and he'd been hoping Duo would lose interest in it, and he could dump it at the back of a shed or somewhere.

His attempt at enthusiasm obviously didn't work; Duo gave him a slightly anxious glance. 'It's OK. If you hate it, I'll find something else to do with it.'

'I'm sure it's fine.' He made a real effort to sound positive; it helped that Duo was walking ahead of him up the stairs and he had Duo's peach of an ass to focus on. 'Listen, do I owe you anything? I know you were talking about going to buy paint and stuff.'

'Actually, I didn't. Just sanded it down. Took ages though; some idiot had actually varnished under the gilt. It was pretty nice wood underneath. Anyway, what do you think?'

'Wow.' Duo had talked before about sticking shells on it; in his head, Trowa had built up a picture of the frame covered with them, the way his nieces had done to the photograph frame they'd made him for Christmas. It was a bloody hideous thing, and he'd be doomed to keeping it on his bedside table for all eternity.

The mirror was nothing like that. Duo had stuck one small, perfect shell in each corner, and the un-gilded, unvarnished surface looked like driftwood, weathered by sea water and sunlight. He'd hung it exactly opposite a window, reflecting the sea and sky outside.

'I love it! Seriously, I should pay you something, Duo. It's amazing; you must've spent hours on it.'

Duo grinned. 'It was fun. And you've been letting me sleep over here for free.'

'Well, I'm hardly going to charge you rent. Or maybe just in sexual favours.'

'Now that,' Duo said, smirking 'is the best idea you've ever had.' He was suddenly in front of Trowa, fingers lightly resting on Trowa's belt buckle. 'How about you lose these, Tro, huh?'

'Consider them lost. One second.' It actually took longer than that to strip off; his damn shoelaces didn't want to be opened, and Duo wasn't helping, groping and teasing and getting in the way.

'Oh, God.' He didn't know if Duo had planned it, but they were right in front of the mirror; he could look down and see that perfect cock-sucking mouth wrapped around him, or he could see them both reflected perfectly in the mirror if he looked across. He wanted it to go on for days, forever. He came pretty much as soon as Duo swallowed him down.

Duo grinned up at him, wiping one hand across his mouth. 'That didn't take too long. Needed it, huh?'

'Been wanting it ever since I left here.' He slumped against the wall, Duo pressed between his legs. 'God, Duo. That was…not boring.'

'Wow.' Duo pressed a kiss to his thigh. 'That's some serious praise there, Barton. For the record, you kind of need to work on your stamina. Maybe hold out for more than two seconds.'

'Maybe I do.' He touched one finger to Duo's swollen lips, remembering where they'd been, what they'd been doing. 'Maybe if my legs can manage to hold me up, I'll take you to bed and see if we can work on that a little bit.'

Duo got up, slowly, taking a little detour on the way to nuzzle between Trowa's legs. 'Sounds good to me. Come on.'

There were a few signs of Duo's presence in the bedroom; a pair of jeans neatly folded over a chair, and a hairbrush that wasn't Trowa's on the bedside table. It was nice, like Duo belonged there.

It actually took him a minute to realise what else was different, that the walls were a whole different colour to how they'd been four days ago. 'You painted?' he asked stupidly, like it wasn't obvious.

Duo shrugged. 'Uh, yeah. Found the paint in one of the outhouses, and it looked like you'd tried out the colour in here; there were a few splodges under the window. Um, you like it?'

'Yeah.' He revolved slowly, adjusting to sand-coloured walls instead of stark white. He'd only bought the paint because the guy in the DIY place had been cute, and he'd kind of fancied a little project. He hadn't really bothered to do anything more than that; one of the things he'd put on the long finger 'til he was seriously bored. 'It's great, honestly. It looks totally different.'

The colour wasn't the only thing to have changed, actually. He was pretty sure that weathered, sun-bleached oar over the window hadn't been there before, and he did recognise the old seaman's chest at the end of his bed, and the lantern on the window ledge, but both looked like someone had put in some serious work on them. It all looked a bit like an interior-décor picture in a magazine on seaside living or whatever.

'I just fiddled around with stuff a bit,' Duo muttered, one shade short of defensive. 'Anything you don't like, I can chuck out.'

'I do like it.' He was almost sure of that, and he was good at adapting to stuff anyway. Or ignoring it. He hadn't really thought that Duo would be the sort to want to play house, but maybe all those years of never daring to touch anything in Heero's shrine to IKEA had got to him. He kissed Duo, just to get the message across, walking them both across the floor until he got Duo pushed down on to the mattress. That, at least, didn't look like it had changed.

He definitely, very definitely, belonged in the bed. Trowa took his time undressing him; not at all what Duo wanted, moaning and thrusting against him. He weathered it, biting his lip against his own desire, and focusing on small steps. Getting Duo naked and ready and pausing every now and then for a deep kiss.

'Not the only one who needs to work on his stamina, am I?' he demanded, finally arching over Duo, and Duo honest-to-God _sobbed_. Oh, God, he _loved_ this; the way Duo's whole body shuddered when he finally slid inside, the way he reached up to meet him. The feel of him. The way all those muttered curses gradually became sighs of pleasure, and then that one high, sharp cry of bliss.

It took a while, after, to float back down to reality, drifting in a sea of rumpled, stained sheets, with the late afternoon sun gilding their bodies. For both of them, he thought; at least Duo seemed happy enough to lie beneath him, letting Trowa's lips move over his body.

Quatre's skin was palest ivory and alabaster; flawless. Duo had a constellation of freckles – utterly kissable; lickable – across his back, and some scattered across his arms and legs. A little dark, velvety mole on his right shoulder that was like a magnet for Trowa's lips. And scars, mostly faded by now, but you could see his past, carved and etched into his body.

It made him very real, somehow.

He kissed his way down Duo's chest, lingering on his nipples, his navel, that little freckle just below it, and then down again, taking Duo in his mouth.

'You like that, huh?'

'Touching you when you're soft?' Trowa lifted his head slightly, rested his chin on Duo's left thigh. 'Oh, yeah. I love it. Love the taste of you, the way you feel. Everything.'

Duo made a face. 'Not loving the way I feel so much. I'm fucking leaking.'

'Mmm.' Trowa slid one hand under him, slipped a finger easily into him. 'Mmmmm. So you are. I like it.'

'You would, you perv. Tro, seriously, you have got to get some sort of bathroom up here. I need to clean up.'

'There's a whole sea out there. Actually, you ever had sex on the beach?'

'As in the drink, or actual sex?'

'As in, actual sex. It's a gorgeous day; I've been stuck in airports or on planes since five am. It'd be nice to get out for a bit, get some air.'

'So, you have some kind of outdoor sex fetish you've been hiding?' Duo asked later as they made their way along the shore.

'Not exactly. I wouldn't have a problem with acquiring one though.' Not in the least, he thought, giving Duo an admiring glance. Oh, he could think of plenty of places where it would be fun to indulge in a little outdoor sex. The cover they were heading to; a waterfall deep in the forest; a little clearing that was a haze of bluebells this time of year. 'If you don't have anything on tomorrow, we could maybe go for a hike up into the hills a bit?'

'Yeah, cool. Oh, I like this,' he approved, standing to take in the view; the little half-moon of sand leading down to the water. 'Still not sure about the whole going swimming thing. Won't it be cold?'

'It's all right.' Trowa put down his rucksack and spread a blanket in the shelter of a large rock. 'I've been swimming for the last month or so. It's OK when you get in.'

'You mean once your nerve endings go numb?' Duo teased.

'Something like that. It's great though. Invigorating. And it's been sunny enough for the past couple of weeks; should, the water should have warmed up a bit. Come on, give it a try. If it's too cold, you don't have to stay in.'

Duo shrugged and then took his t-shirt off. 'You doing the whole skinny dipping thing, yeah?' he asked, watching Trowa strip.

'Yep.' Trowa grinned at him, and then steeled himself to dash into the waves.

He swam a couple of brisk laps, from one side of the little cove to the other, and then treaded water, watching Duo's splashy, jerky progress. He hadn't lied about not being much of a swimmer. Trowa considered giving him a few tips and then thought better of it. He'd been there on a few different occasions when Heero had offered advice; on better ways to fly a Gundam; to garrotte someone; to make a toasted cheese sandwich. It hadn't gone down well.

Duo essayed something that was maybe meant to be the back stroke, and came up spluttering, just as Trowa was considering diving down to rescue him. 'Told you I was pretty crap in the water.'

'You're mostly staying afloat, that's the main thing,' Trowa told him. 'Maybe try to keep your legs straighter. Here, watch. Like this.'

He was very tentative at first, giving instructions, not wanting Duo to think he was being controlling or condescending, but Duo seemed happy enough to be helped, just a bit, especially when Trowa came up with the idea of kisses as incentives. The swimming got forgotten fairly soon after that, and they ended up lying on the sun-warmed blanket, curled around each other.

'Duo, listen,' he said suddenly. 'You do know that nothing happened with me and Quat, right?'

Duo grinned, kissing the tip of his nose. 'I kind of guessed, since you didn't run off to L4 with him or whatever. Bet he tried to make something happen though?'

'I wasn't going to tell you this.' He definitely hadn't meant to, but ….it seemed right suddenly. Honest. 'He kind of propositioned me.'

He'd expected fireworks, but Duo just nodded. 'C'mon, Tro. Not like I couldn't have guessed. Like it's not what he always does when he sees you.'

'You don't mind?'

'Well, I'm not exactly ecstatic,' Duo said dryly, and then leaned in and kissed him. 'And I sort of hope it happened before you told him about us.'

Well, sort of.

'Before I told him we were serious,' he offered.

'Don't worry; I'll talk to him. Let him know you're off limits. And I assume you turned him down flat, since you're here now with me.'

'Yeah,' Trowa said, more than a bit breathlessly. 'You want to try out the whole sex on the beach thing?'


	12. Green Thoughts

Note 1: I have stolen the title of this one from Andrew Marvell's poem, _The Garden._

Note 2: a 'twitcher' is a somewhat negative UK term often misapplied to birdwatchers; the actual meaning is someone who just wants to count as many species as possible, but isn't interested in the actual birds.

 **Green Thoughts in a Green Shade:**

'Are we there yet?' Duo whined. Again. Propped against a sunlit-dappled tree trunk with shafts of sunlight dancing down into his hair, he looked like some sort of forest spirit.

Well.

A very mouthy one in combats and a distractingly well-fitted t-shirt.

Gorgeous, though, even if he was currently bitching about everything. The heat, even this early in the morning; the clouds of small biting insects determined to feast on human flesh; the total lack of coffee shops along the hiking trail because he was craving a caffeine fix.

Maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all. Duo was a confirmed city boy; even after years on Earth, he still wasn't entirely comfortable away from streets and traffic and electricity, but he'd been adamant that he wanted to join Trowa on one of his hikes so – there they were, the two of them in a beech wood with sun slanting through the trees in stripes of vivid gold, deep in the hush of dense forest, dark and shadowed where the light wasn't penetrating through the branches.

'I told you where we were going,' Trowa said, with patience that was only slightly starting to fray at the edges, and pointed upwards through a break in the trees at the peak. 'There.'

'All that way? I'll die,' Duo groaned dramatically.

'Don't be so lazy,' Trowa took a slug out of his water bottle and handed it over. 'Do you good, a nice healthy hike in the fresh air. I thought you liked exercise.'

Duo poured some water into his palm, and splashed it over his face and neck. 'I like nice healthy exercise in a gym with hot showers and a sauna and a juice bar for after,' he said.

'Not schlepping up the side of a mountain in a heat wave.'

'It's not that hot,' Trowa countered, just a bit uncertainly. 'You know, if you really hate it, we don't have to climb all the way up. We can go back home.'

'Nah, I'm just joking,' Duo slurped some water, and gave the bottle back. It's nice, really. Pretty. And we did say we'd try out each other's hobbies and stuff.'

'I know,' Trowa replaced the bottle in his pack. 'But that doesn't mean you have to do something you hate.'

'Oh, please,' Duo snorted. 'If I hated it, you'd know, believe me. I'm just being cranky 'cause you dragged me out of bed at some ungodly hour before the sun even came up, and that was after you'd given me a pretty extensive work-out _in_ bed.'

'I don't remember you complaining. More the opposite, actually.'

'Don't remember you giving me much of a chance,' Duo retorted. 'Plus, I am kind of disappointed. You said we'd see deer and squirrels and stuff on this trail. I haven't even seen a bunny rabbit yet.'

'We might, if one of us wasn't mouthing off at the top of his lungs the whole time and...oh, wait. Look. Ten o'clock on the oak tree; the big one to the right of the trail.' He swung the binoculars from around his neck and gave them to Duo.

'What am I looking…Oh! _Oh_! What is it?'

'A goldfinch. Pretty, huh?'

'Yeah. Is it rare?'

'Not specially. Not so many of them in woodland this time of year though; they're usually in open countryside, in flocks.'

'Maybe he's lost,' Duo gave the binoculars back, a teasing gleam in his eye. 'Oh, my God. I've just realised; you're a total twitcher*, aren't you? How the hell did I never know that?'

'I'm not a bloody _twitcher,_ ' Trowa rolled his eyes. 'I like birds, that's all. Why exactly did you think I had a pair of binos along?'

They'd been a gift from Quatre, years ago. The best model that money could buy, naturally. Quat liked birds, or at least he liked watching colourful exotic ones if he could do so in comfort. Not so much spending hours in a hide in the rain.

'I dunno. Cool stuff. Bears. Dinosaurs. Enemy troop movements.'

'Funny, Maxwell.' Trowa swatted his ass, and swung out on to the track. 'Right, break's over. Move it. Or I'll eat all the food myself.'

'What food? You made us a picnic? Oh, Trowa, that's the most romantic thing anyone's ever done for me!' He batted his eyelashes furiously, trying – and failing epically – to look coy.

'It's just a few sandwiches,' Trowa said dryly. 'What did you think we were going to eat?'

'I dunno. I thought maybe you'd catch a couple of fish with your bare hands or snare a rabbit or something. I mean, you're into all that outdoor survival stuff, right?'

'You know, you have some really weird ideas about me,' Trowa grinned at him.

Duo's eyes glinted. 'So, seriously, never killed little fluffy forest animals with your teeth?'

'Hate to disappoint you, but no.'

'Nah, it's good. I'd hate to let my mouth go near yours if you'd been using it to chomp off baby bunnies' heads or whatever.'

'No bunnies chomped. My mouth is perfectly user-friendly,' Trowa agreed, and then grabbed Duo's hand and pulled him in for a kiss. 'I know this isn't really your thing, so thanks for coming along.'

'No bother,' Duo said easily, leaning in to nuzzle at the corner of his mouth. 'Fringe benefits, huh? And food. I could kind of get used to this.'

'Me too.' He said it lightly enough, but there was a weight to it, all the same.

Six days now since Duo had collected him from the airport, since Budapest. It had been almost totally good.

Way better than good, if he was honest. There was an ease there that hadn't really existed before; both of them lowering the barricades, just a bit, letting the other one in, finding that in some odd ways their jagged edges fitted together, or at least didn't draw too much blood.

Duo seemed calmer; happier, maybe, and they'd been disgustingly domestic. Cooking together in the evenings and settling on the roof afterwards to watch the sunset with a chessboard and a couple of drinks between them, or watching Duo work on his latest project; painting the flea market chairs.

It was great, really, he thought, slowing for a second to admire Duo's back view. Despite all the grumbling about being hot and tired and about to expire due to caffeine deprivation, he'd paced Trowa easily on the long climb up. They didn't talk much on the last stretch; Trowa pointed out some viewpoints and some birds, and at one point Duo half-strangled him grabbing the binoculars to look at a kestrel floating above them.

And then they were walking out of the forest to the little clearing that was one of Trowa's favourite places in the world, the Sanquian foothills spread around them like endless waves on a frozen green sea.

'God, this is gorgeous,' Duo enthused. 'Can't believe this is the first time I'm been up here.'

'Why haven't you? Not like I never asked you.'

Duo shrugged. 'I guess, sometimes me and Heero weren't getting along all that well. I didn't want to dump that on anyone else. And it was kind of his thing anyway; coming out here and going hiking and stuff with you. I think he liked having that to himself without me being around. I didn't want to start muscling in on you guys hanging out. And … I guess it wasn't a lot of fun for me, seeing you all broken-hearted and bitter and shit after Quat.'

Oh.

He'd kind of hinted, before, that maybe he'd had some sort of feelings for Trowa. Never nearly as blatantly.

'Really? When did that happen?'

'Jeez, I dunno.' Duo flopped down on the grass and pulled a grass stem, nibbling it. 'Some time after the war, I guess, 'cause I pretty much hated your guts during it. I used to watch you with Quat. It was nice, the way you were together. Used to think I'd like something like that. Someone who cared that much about me. Never really had that.'

'Not Heero?'

'Oh, well. He did care, in his own way. He just….God, he didn't know what to do with it. He could do these grand gestures sometimes, you know, like rescuing me instead of killing me when he was meant to, and saving the universe and whatever, but he didn't really have a clue otherwise what to _do_ with me. Apart from the obvious.'

'You never tried talking about any of it?'

Duo made a face. 'You do _know_ him, Tro, right? Yeah, I tried. You can probably imagine how that went. Shit, wasn't like I knew what I was doing either, what I wanted. Neither of us had a fucking clue about how to do the whole relationship thing. I used to look at you and Quat, they way you were with each other. I dunno. And then 'Fei hooked up with Zechsy and I guess I wanted something like that, and 'Ro just didn't get it. Why I couldn't just be happy with the way things were, and when I tried to talk about it, we'd end up having a row. So, yeah, that's my sorry story.'

'Have you spoken to him lately?'

'What's to talk about? We're through. He's not around anyway. Been off God knows where for the last week. Supposed to be work but no one knows anything about it and it's not on the system.'

He'd been checking then.

Trowa took out his water bottle and took a long swallow. They were through, Duo and Heero. Duo had said so. He was just concerned about someone he still considered a friend because he was Duo and he thought about people. That was all.

'Not like I want to talk to him, anyway,' Duo went on, sounding like he was trying hard to believe it. 'He's so full of shit. Never says anything worth listening to.'

'Duo? He said something to you, last week, didn't he? Not just the stuff about Quat?'

Duo rolled over on to his stomach, propping his chin on his hands. 'Huh? Oh, that. Yeah, he said some stupid crap.'

'What, exactly?'

It might well have been stupid crap; it probably had been, but it had done something to them. To Duo.

'Ah, look, it was nothing. All the usual stuff he comes out with when he's pissed-off with me. You've heard him often enough. Little bonus this time; about how I'll never nearly measure up to Quat for you; how you're only with me for the one thing, and you'll get tired of putting up with me soon enough, and it's beyond pathetic how much I'm into you.'

'The bastard. God, Duo. You don't believe that, do you?'

He had. Obviously. Part of him had, at least. Trowa got it now; why Duo had launched into boyfriend-from-hell mode for those three days. Duo had been testing him, trying to find out when exactly Trowa would give up on him. Probably at least partly why Duo had let him go to Budapest alone, to see what would happen.

'I kind of did, a bit,' Duo admitted. 'Now, nope. Not so much.'

'Good. So, you're into me, are you?'

Duo grinned. 'Sounds like I must be, yeah. So, what about you? Never looked at my drool-worthy ass when we were kids and thought, _fuck yeah, I'd tap that in a heartbeat_?'

'Too busy looking at Quat, mostly. Sorry. But yeah, I took a peek now and then. Had the occasional little fantasy, even.'

'You got off thinking about me?' Duo teased. 'Trowa! So, c'mon, give. What was happening in these occasional little fantasies of yours?'

'Tapping your drool-worthy ass, mostly,' Trowa admitted honestly, letting his own mouth quirk upwards. Yeah, he'd been pretty much Quat-obsessed for all those years, but he'd still been a guy. With eyes. Of course he'd looked at Duo sometimes, and wondered. Imagined. 'Putting my tongue up it, maybe.'

'Ew. You are so not going there, Barton.'

'You haven't even tried it,' Trowa counted. 'How d'you know you won't like it? You liked all the other stuff we've done.'

'Huh.' Duo flopped over on to his back, looking up at the clouds. 'D'you not think it's weird talking about this stuff?'

'Talking about sex?' Trowa asked calmly. 'No, it's not weird. It's practical. How else are people supposed to know what they like? Or tell the other person?'

'Uh, trial and error mostly,' Duo admitted. ''Course, me and Heero did pretty basic stuff. I guess you and Quat sat down and he drew diagrams. I know what he's like.'

'There were 3D bar charts, pretty much,' Trowa agreed solemnly. 'Colour-coded.'

Duo laughed. 'God, I can so totally see him doing that. Heero'd have _loved_ something like that. You know him; he likes being _told_ what to do in some situations.' His eyes danced suddenly. 'Listen, I'll tell you something but you can never, never tell anyone, OK? He had this programme he set up on his laptop; how often he needed to have sex.'

'Sorry, what?'

'Ah, it was this projection he did. Totally Heero. Y' know, he'd worked out all kinds of stuff about how he did need occasional sexual release to retain optimum efficiency, and release adrenalin and chemicals in his body, and all sorts of crap, and he calibrated all these stats to figure out the frequency and the times that worked best for him and…what?'

Trowa stared at him, Duo's smile fading as he registered Trowa's expression. 'Duo, that's appalling.'

'I thought it was kind of funny,' Duo muttered. 'And a bit sad, yeah.'

'He used you,' Trowa said flatly.

'Sort of, maybe. But I used him too. It wasn't like I couldn't get him to do it whenever I wanted, when I really tried. He used to be pissed, after though, 'cause I'd messed up his system.'

'He's insane. And probably blind, if he didn't just look at you and want to bend you over every minute of the day.'

'That what you want?'

'Pretty much, yeah,' Trowa agreed huskily. He reached out and brushed his fingers across the delightful curve of Duo's rump, and got it slapped away.

'Don't even, Tro. That's so fucking off limits right now.'

'Off _fucking_ limits, you mean,' Trowa teased and Duo glared at him.

'You're not even half as funny as you think you are.'

'That was still pretty hilarious, though.'

'Yeah, right. And I'm serious about the Access Denied stuff. I'd like to be able to sit at my desk on Monday.'

'You'd better go on top tonight then.'

'Seriously?'

Trowa shrugged. 'Why not?' They'd never really talked about positions, but Duo had never given any sign that he might like to top; seemed more than happy for Trowa to take him. A lot, and with enthusiasm, despite the current complaining. 'It's not something I've done a lot, though. Quat was never into it; used to say it was too much like hard work. You?'

'Me, what? Oh, right. Yeah, Heero let me a few times.'

'He didn't like it?' Trowa guessed.

Duo sniffed. 'Liked it way too much, and hated it that he liked getting his ass fucked by someone who used to whore himself out. Didn't really fit in with his image of himself, that he seriously got off bending over for someone like me.'

'I know I've said this before, but he really is an asshole,' Trowa said firmly. 'I don't have any of those issues, just so you know.'

'Don't have any issues at all that I can see,' Duo muttered. 'So, you said something about food? The least you can do is feed me, after dragging me up a mountain when any normal, sensible person is still in bed.'

'Food, right.' Trowa tugged his backpack over, and undid the straps. It wasn't exactly a subtle subject-change, but then Duo plainly hadn't been that comfortable talking about sex. God knew, he was enthusiastic enough about actually _doing_ it. Or maybe it was just sex-with-Heero he didn't want to talk about. Fair enough, really.

'Just a couple of sandwiches?' Duo teased, surveying the array of Tupperware boxes Trowa spread on the grass. 'Really?'

'You're always saying you're hungry; didn't want you to collapse of starvation on me.'

'Oh, you got plans for me, huh?' Duo's eyebrows waggled at him, as he reached for a chicken leg. 'Tro, seriously, you didn't need to go to all this effort. Thanks, though.'

'No bother.'

'Well, it's great, is all I'm saying.' He pulled his backpack over to use as an impromptu cushion and took a gulping lungful of air. 'So thanks. For dragging me up here and all. Just what I needed after this week.'

'Problems at work?' Trowa asked carefully. He'd asked before, and been fobbed off with Duo's _classified shit_ excuse for not talking about it a couple of times, as if Duo gave a damn about those sorts of rules, and then finally started to drop the odd bit of information, once he realised that Trowa was actually interested.

'Nah, not really. It's just work. Sucks sometimes, you know?'

'Yeah. Duo, why did you ever join Preventers? You told me once you hated the whole idea of them. That you thought they had way too much authority.'

After the war, that had been; probably their first proper conversation ever, eating peaches in Relena's palace, neither of them really able to believe that the war was over. Trowa certainly hadn't been able to believe it; he'd been full of plans for getting Quat out of that hospital and running with him.

'I guess I meant it, then,' Duo said thoughtfully. 'I dunno. I guess Heero was here; OK, he's officially freelance and all, but he does spend most of his time at Preventers. And you and 'Fei and Sally and Noin; it was kind of nice going somewhere I'd know people. Plus,' he sat upright, looking directly at Trowa, very serious for once. 'what I told you, that was true. Agents do have a shit-scary authority; 'specially on the Colonies, 'specially in what they decide are emergency situations. That sort of power can get seriously abused, yeah? They need someone to keep tabs on them.'

'Which is you?'

'Which is Internal Affairs, I guess. Not exactly the best way to make friends but there you go. What about you and your accounting geekery?'

'Kind of the same, I guess. Monitoring people. Keeping tabs on where the money's going.'

Duo grinned. 'Honestly, in a million years I never thought you'd end up as a pen-pusher in an office.'

'Forensic accountant and auditor,' Trowa corrected. 'It was what Quat was studying,' he expanded. 'Business and Accounting. It meant we could take all our classes together. No other reason. Pretty pathetic.'

It was, really, even though he'd ended up actually getting into the subject, discovered he had something of a knack with figures, that the liked the logic behind them. 'Anyway, what about you? Why law? I always thought you'd go for engineering or something.'

'I did,' Duo looked surprised. 'You didn't know? I did six months at MIT. I hated it. I mean, seriously, I knew most of the stuff and I was sitting in lectures with these dumb kids being spoon-fed shit out of text-books 'cause the professors didn't seem to know anything that wasn't in a book. So, I dropped out and I didn't really know what to do, and Heero said I should study law 'cause then I'd get paid to argue for a living. He was kind of joking, I think, but it sounded interesting, something I didn't know anything about, so I gave it a shot and loved it.'

'Yeah. Duo, this whole thing about work. About us being together. It is officially against regulations. Like 'Fei said. Did you mean it, that you wouldn't mind leaving?'

'If there was no other option, then yeah. I guess. I know I complain about my job all the time, but I like what I do. The whole making a difference thing. I do feel I'm doing that, some of the time at least. I do get why they don't want field agents getting involved, but us… I can't see how it's relevant. Honestly, I don't know if anyone will make an issue of it. I never even thought about it 'til 'Fei started on about it. Yeah, like _he's_ the poster boy for rules and regulations. _Not_. Anyway, how'd you feel about having to quit?'

Trowa sighed, cutting himself a slice of quiche for something to do, to buy time. There were things he liked about the job. Working with friends. Feeling he was doing something valuable, like Duo had said. 'I don't know. I haven't really thought about it.' He'd pretty much forgotten Wufei had ever mentioned it, 'til Quat brought it up.

'Hey,' Duo reached out and squeezed his shoulder. 'How about it's a bridge we cross when we come to it? If it ever happens? Fuck, who the hell cares about what a couple of office guys do? Come on, it's not like we're the only ones. I could name a dozen other people, minimum, who're doing each other.'

'Really?'

'Yeah.' Duo picked a raisin out of the muffin he was eating and flicked it at him. 'You need to get out a bit more, Tro; talk to people the odd time, listen to the water-cooler gossip and shit.'

He ate the raisin. 'I do talk to people. Sometimes.'

Duo tossed him a cherry and a look of pure scepticism. 'Sure you do, man. Like, once in a blue moon, maybe. Hey, I was thinking, now I've climbed your mountain, it's your turn to do something for me. How d'you feel about going clubbing?'

Trowa shrugged without any real enthusiasm. 'Some night, maybe.'

'Nope. Tonight. I've got it all planned. Dinner; bit of dancing. Then you can stay over at my place; it's about time you saw it.'

'You really have got it all planned, haven't you?' He wasn't really sure how he felt about the prospect of it.

'Yep, totally. Come on. Do you good to get out a bit.'

'I do get out.' That, just maybe, came out a bit more defensive than he'd planned. 'I've been out with you plenty of times.'

'Yeah, and you run back to your lighthouse ASAP, usually. Might be kind of nice to do something different for a change. Look, dinner, yeah? One drink at a club; fifteen minutes of groping each other on the dance floor. If you hate it, we'll leave after that. Deal?' Duo grinned at him, all shining violet eyes and that smile and sunbeams playing in his hair.

Damn. Not fair.

Aw, c'mon, Tro,' he wheedled. 'It'll be fun. I'll buy you a nice dinner, anywhere you like; let you majorly feel me up when we're dancing; take you back to my place and officially introduce you to my bed. You up for any of that?'


	13. First Dance

**First Dance:**

He'd _been_ to nightclubs. Naturally. Everyone had. Never with Quat, equally naturally. The Winners had given them a fairly long leash, but with definite limits. Their brother being seen at a gay club would very definitely have been a limit.

He'd gone out with Cathy and friends from the circus, sometimes, after a show; a few times, he'd been dragged along with colleagues on a night out, and of course, he'd gone by himself, more than a few times, and stayed long enough to down a couple of drinks and size up the local talent, and make eye contact with someone who usually looked a bit like Quat, and then jerk his head at the bathrooms or the back door. It usually hadn't taken more than that. He'd gone to the sort of clubs where no one expected more.

This was the first time he'd ever gone out clubbing with just one person. With a boyfriend or partner or whatever.

He dithered over clothes like a teenager on a first date with his first crush, and then laughed at his own silliness and just pulled on the first things that came to hand. Silver-washed black jeans with a decent belt and a fitted t-shirt, with a black dress shirt on top. That would cover pretty much any dress codes. Duo'd just said _a_ _club,_ which could have meant anything from leather harnesses and leashes (probably not, realistically, although you never knew) to drag queens and glittery eye-shadow.

He'd got the dress code right anyway. Duo opened his apartment door in tight jeans and a swirly, silky shirt patterned in jade and sapphire, with a tank top underneath. Very nice, even if a part of his brain had been indulging little fantasies of Duo in leather and mesh.

'Hey.'

'Hey yourself'. He got a kiss and a smile as Duo gestured to his bare toes. 'So, come in for a sec? I just need to get my jacket and shoes, and you can look around, which will take approximately thirty seconds.'

The apartment was just as small as Duo had said. An estate agent would say it was compact and cosy; he still remembered the lingo from his own apartment-hunting days. Trowa thought it was a cramped and claustrophobic shoebox.

The sitting room was nice enough, if definitely on the small side. Duo's personality was stamped vividly on a fairly neutral palette of white walls, gleaming wooden floor, dark blue armchairs and fabrics.

The flea market bookcase, newly sanded and varnished, fit neatly into an alcove, packed with brightly-jacketed sci-fi novels, and every surface was crammed with an assortment of Duo's tat; ancient cameras and radios and something he was fairly sure was an old typewriter. The tiny balcony, not more than an overgrown window-ledge, just about had space for the chair they'd bought, topped with bright cushions and a couple of neatly-folded blankets. The flowers spilling over the dining-table were the one odd note, presumably a house-warming gift from someone who didn't know Duo very well: an elaborate monstrosity of white roses and orchids and a few bare, silver-sprayed branches which reached almost to the ceiling. Trowa shook his head at those, making a mental note to buy a moving-house gift of his own, and went on exploring.

The rest of the place was ridiculous. The kitchen and bathroom were glorified cupboards; the bathroom didn't even have a shower, just a hand-held attachment above the sink. The bedroom only had a narrow single bed, and an even narrower wardrobe and about one square foot of floor space.

'So. Home sweet home,' Duo commented brightly when he walked back into the sitting room after the grand tour of about twenty seconds. Duo had overestimated the size of the place. 'What d'you think?'

'I know you said it was small, but God, you couldn't even swing a half-starved kitten in here.'

'Lucky I don't have a kitten, so,' Duo said levelly. 'It's not that bad, really.'

Trowa lifted a sceptical eyebrow. 'Come on, Duo. Those bloody flowers take up half your sitting room for a start. Who the hell sent you those?'

'Oh.' Duo bent down to retie a perfectly neat shoelace. 'Um. Heero actually.'

' _Heero_? As in Heero the guy you've broken up with?'

'That one, yes,' Duo spoke with slow, exaggerated patience and then turned a scowl around the room, bypassing the damn flowers and settling on Trowa. ' _What_? Not like I asked for them, and he's off somewhere in space and I can't get hold of him to tell him I don't want them, so I don't really know exactly what you want me to do.'

Trowa could think of any number of things, starting with bonfires and disposal units. Acid. Instead, he forced the grimace on his face into something approximating a smile. 'Sorry. He doesn't have great taste, does he?'

'They're hideous, right?' Duo said eagerly. 'And who knew you're not supposed to eat the berries on those arrangements?'

'Everyone,' Trowa said flatly. 'They're decorative. You didn't.'

'Didn't what?' Duo straightened. 'Eat 'em? Sure did, on my breakfast cereal. Spent an hour spewing my guts out.'

'You did what? Duo, you need to see a doctor!'

'Aw, chillax,' Duo waved a negligent hand. 'I saw Sally when I got in to work. She gave me some stuff. Called me a moron in about a hundred different ways.'

Trowa shook his head. 'God, I don't blame her. You are. Lucky you've got your looks going for you.'

'What are you saying; that I'm dumb but I'm hot?'

'Pretty much.' Trowa caught hold of his belt and reeled him in, enjoying the teasing. Duo would have decked him for saying something like that a few weeks ago. He liked how easy they could be with each other now. 'No, check that. Really hot. We could just stay in, you know.'

'Nope,' Duo said smartly. 'We had a deal. Let's go. D'you fancy anything special for dinner? I thought we could walk down to the harbour; you know that new development? It's only a couple blocks from here if you go through the park, and there're tonnes of places to eat. We could sit outside, maybe.'

'Sounds good.'

Most places were packed, on a Friday night and they ended up wandering around for a couple of hours, snacking on odds and ends. Slices of pizza and samosas and cartons of Thai noodles, with doughnuts and frozen yoghurt for dessert. They finally found a free table in a waterfront bar, and sat for a couple of beers, watching the world go by.

It was good; a nice buzz going on, and Duo across the table, bright-eyed and laughing. Two guys out on a date. Good craft beers and the prospect of dancing and sex after. Not bad at all.

Duo nudged his foot under the table. 'Look at you, all smiley.'

'Am I?'

'Yeah. Wasn't sure this'd be your kind of place.'

Trowa shrugged. 'I've never been here before. I didn't know it existed. It all used to be warehouses, wasn't it?'

'It's been like this a couple years now. You really don't get out much, do you?'

'Probably not,' Trowa admitted. Not at all, really. He'd spent the last two years, more or less, locked away in his tower and brooding on his lost love. Just what Quatre had asked him not to do, and it hadn't really accomplished anything, except to make Quat feel bad. (An end in itself, if you got down to it.) 'This is nice, though.'

Mellow red-brick buildings and swans drifting serenely past and a couple of buskers playing a violin and a cello, not too badly. He did like it.

All Duo's influence, really. If he'd been by himself, he'd just have ignored this crowded place, walked fast through it, and wondered why the hell anyone would want to be somewhere like this, when they could find a quiet place and be alone.

'So, this club we're going to. What's it like?'

Duo took a swig of his beer, leaving a neat little line of froth above his lip. He took his time licking it off. 'Just your sort of place. Total sex dungeon. I'll need to go home and change first. Get my collar and shit.'

'Really?'

''Course not.' Duo grinned impishly. 'You disappointed? It's just a nightclub, Tro. Pretty chilled, really. Good mix of people; good music. They have live bands at the weekend.' He put his empty glass down, and reached over to squeeze Trowa's shoulder. You're not remotely keen, are you? We don't have to. We can just have another drink and go home.'

There it was; the perfect out. Duo'd been looking forward to it, though, and he had agreed to go.

'It's OK. We can go for a bit. I'm just not into the whole club scene.'

'Nor am I, really. I've been to some pretty terrible pick up joints. Total meat markets. Just to find someone, you know?'

'I know,' Trowa said grimly. He'd been to places like that, often enough. He knew what they were like. And God, he could just imagine Duo, who was oddly innocent considering everything, walking into those sorts of places; the sort of reception he'd get.

'Yeah, well,' Duo shrugged. 'This is just a bar, really, with a dance-floor. I've been a couple times with people from work. It's cool. We don't have to stay long; one drink, OK?'

It was all right, really, he thought when they got there. A long, polished wood bar with brass fittings; deep, overstuffed couches arranged around low tables. And it was pretty obvious Duo had been there before; the bouncer waved them through straightaway, and the barman ignored a line of customers to take his order.

'Pay for these, would you?' Duo gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. 'Going to the little boys' room. Back in a minute.'

It took him ten, but every one had been well spent, Trowa thought, watching him sashay back through the crowd. He'd taken off the shirt and rolled it up and wrapped it 'round his hips like a belt. He'd spent some time in front of a mirror too; lip gloss that reflected the lights at the bar, shimmering, and black eyeliner and a smear of glitter across his cheeks and collar bones.

'Wow.'

'You like?'

'Oh, I totally like,' Trowa assured him. 'Come here.'

Duo sidestepped neatly. 'Uh huh. Dance time. C'mon.' He grabbed Trowa's hand and pulled him off his stool. As Duo had said, the music was good. Vaguely Celtic with a decent rhythm, played with verve by the four musicians on stage. And dancing with Duo was way beyond good. Trowa took his cue from the other dancers; most of them were keeping it fairly clean. A bit of kissing and plenty of body contact but nothing beyond that. Nothing like places he'd been in, with full-on screwing going on against the walls.

He was actually sorry when an interval was announced.

'You enjoyed that, huh?' Duo teased, looking at his expression.

'Yeah.' Trowa sank half his beer in one go; it was good too, a decent craft brew. One good thing about being able to walk to back to Duo's; they could both drink for a change. 'The music was great, you were right about that.'

Duo nodded, looking pleased. 'They have all sorts of different bands. They've been good, every time I've been here. So, you've stuck it out for way longer than we said. You want to go?'

'If you don't mind, yeah. I wouldn't mind coming back some time, but I'd kind of like some privacy for a bit.'

'Really?' Duo sparkled at him, all shiny glitter and shimmering lips and that huge smile. 'What do you want privacy for?'

'Work it out, Maxwell.' He slid one hand down Duo's spine, letting it rest on the curve of his hip.

'Oh, one of those work-outs, huh?'

'Not exactly.' He leaned in and took Duo's earlobe in his teeth, nipping gently and then washing his tongue over it. 'You remember what we talked about this morning, right? You were going to fuck me?'

There's a streetlight directly outside Duo's bedroom window; the thin blinds don't even pretend to keep the glare out.

No chance in hell of being able to fall back asleep. Probably a good thing. He can focus on the light; on Duo's breathing.

It's Duo in bed with him. Legs entangled; hair soft against his skin.

Duo.

Not anyone else.

Duo hadn't been the person in his dream, and it genuinely takes effort to remember that.

It hadn't been Duo with him.

He'd liked being underneath just fine during the actual event; everything in the entire universe distilled to Duo moving over him and in him, and then that final explosion and the world's edges fraying.

They'd fallen asleep wrapped around each other, and he'd woken not thinking of Duo at all.

He's forgotten the aftermath of sex is somewhat less than pleasant, if you're the one on the bottom. Bloody awful, in fact. Damn. Maybe they should have used a condom; he's never done it bare before and now he does finally get why Duo bitches sometimes about leaking.

 _Breathe._

He has things to focus on; little things to clutch at for sanity. Duo's breathing, deep and even. The light, outside. It's not dark, this time, and it's quiet, considering the apartment is in a pretty central location.

There's light; there's no one outside; there's Duo, and it takes an effort not to cling to him physically because that would only wake him up.

 _It's Duo._

Not – anyone else.

It's quiet, no scuffling or sniggering outside the door.

 _Duo_ , he reminds himself, although it's something of an effort. Duo. His friend. Boyfriend. He'd wanted it. Duo would never hurt him.

He tries to count his breaths, loses track somewhere after seven hundred because he can't really focus, and then starts to lose the very tenuous strands of control he's been clinging to.

The room is too damn small; the walls closing in around him, and it's too dark, and the other man in the bed is far too close, and his body is very painfully aware of having been fucked and he needs space, he needs to be able to _breathe_ …

He just about keeps it together enough to slide carefully out of bed, without waking Duo, feeling his way to the door and then the bathroom. Fiddling with the shower-head yields either a slow, relentless drip of scalding water, or occasional fast spurts of cold. He has to contort himself over the sink even to get wet. He does his best to clean up, cursing Duo in his head for not having a place with even a half-decent bathroom when all he wants is a proper shower, to be able to feel clean, to wash off the smell of sex and another man's lust.

He'd never been able to clean up properly, after. He'd had to go back to his bunk; to other men's bunks, sometimes, sore and stinking of sex and never really clean. Pointless even to try, when it was only going to keep happening.

After he vomits, he rinses his mouth out and brushes his teeth with a finger and a squeeze of Duo's minty toothpaste. Oddly, that helps; the clean tingling in his mouth. He splashes cold water on his face and that helps too.

At least, he's properly aware of where he is for the first time since he woke. He's definitely here, in Duo's shitty little apartment. His brain seems to have settled on that; no more flickering of realities. He does know where he is. No more shifting of past and present. He's awake and aware and he just wants to go home.

On the way back to the bedroom to find his clothes– all three or so steps of it – he stubs his toe, hard, on the door-frame, and really does curse out loud.

'Tro? You OK?'

Damn. He's awake too. Trowa had wanted nothing more than to find enough clothes to be half-decent and get out, without waking Duo.

'Broke my damn foot,' he snaps, turning on the light as they're both awake now, and looking down at Duo in the ridiculous little bed. 'And you broke my damn ass. And my back.'

'Sorry,' Duo offers, sounding a bit uncertain.

'Sure you are,' Trowa grumbles, refusing to be mollified, even when Duo pulls him down and sits up beside him. He does rather like Duo's head on his shoulder though, Duo's hair spreading over his bare arm. Maybe a small bed has some advantages.

Then a door slams next door; there are very unmistakable and graphic signs of someone using a toilet, and then the shitty pop music starts. Damn, the walls here must be made of cardboard.

'This place is a dump, Duo. Why the fuck couldn't you at least find somewhere with a decent bathroom?'

'It's not that bad,' Duo says evenly. 'I've stayed in way worse places actually.'

'Yeah, me too, but the war's over. I don't get how the hell the guy who owns this place lives here full time.'

'He doesn't, really. Him and his girlfriend have a house out by the lake; he just stays here a few nights a week if he's working late. He was saying he'll probably sell it when he gets back; said I could have first refusal if I wanted.'

'Well, you don't want,' Trowa says smartly, as the unseen neighbour starts to clatter pots and pans. 'It's a dump. Shit! What the fuck is your neighbour doing now? It's the middle of the night; is he seriously going to start cooking?'

'He works shifts,' Duo explains. 'And you just had a shower, you know. You ever think you might have been waking someone up? You used to live in an apartment; you must have heard your neighbours sometimes.'

'I lived in an actual apartment; not a freaking dog kennel.'

'Not everyone can live in his own lighthouse, you know. Not everyone even wants to.'

'I get that, but you could have somewhere better. A place with an actual shower, for a start. Fuck, Duo. You can afford better than this dump.'

It doesn't make sense, Duo wanting to live here. It isn't like he has expensive taste in food or clothes, or any extravagant hobbies to eat up his salary. His jeep is ancient; he's obviously well familiar with scrounging around flea markets and the like; his 'phone and laptop are the Preventer-issued crap Une budgets for, knowing most agents will end up using their own, far superior models.

'No, I can't actually afford anything better,' Duo says tightly. 'I send money to this orphanage on L2. I have a standing order. I kind of think that's more important than me living it up in some penthouse. I'm sorry if it's not good enough for you.'

Oh, shit.

All of a piece, really, with how this has been going since waking up. He thinks he manages to mutter some kind of apology before he stumbles out of the room. He ends up on the balcony, shrugging one of the rugs around his shoulders because it's cold. He just wants to go home, but he doesn't have any clothes and he doesn't want to go back inside and face Duo.

Duo leaves him out there for long enough to calm down a bit, to start feeling genuinely sorry, and to curse himself savagely for being a fucking idiot. When he does come out, he's dressed and holding two mugs of tea. The only way there's room for two on the balcony is to sit on Trowa's lap. Trowa takes the tea with one hand, and wraps the other firmly around Duo.

'Sorry.'

''S'OK,' Duo says mildly. 'So. You want to talk about whatever that was?'

 _No._

No way in hell.

He has Duo cuddled up to him though; in the stark light of the streetlamp, he can see the concern etched on Duo's face.

'I didn't really hurt you, did I?' he asks hesitantly. 'I mean, you seemed to be pretty damn into it.'

'I was and you didn't,' Trowa says quickly. It is and it isn't true. He's way out of practice and Duo's not small and was very enthusiastic. 'Well, you know. Not much. I just need to get used to it. I – kind of had a nightmare. That's all.'

He sees Duo's expression change, just a little. The concern is still very much in evidence, but now he looks like he wants, very much, to hurt someone. 'Shit, Tro. I'm sorry. I – what I did – it made you think about stuff, right? Was it Barton?'

Trowa nods. 'It wasn't you, Duo. Nothing you did. It happens sometimes. You know.'

The man in his arms sighs heavily. 'Yeah. Still. Want to talk about it?'

'What's to say?' he asks numbly. 'After the first time, it was… kind of a thing. Every night, pretty much. During the day, if he could. Not much I could do about it. Maybe for the best; everyone knew I was his. At least I didn't have to lie down for anyone else. Not much, anyway. If he was pissed at something I did, or drunk enough, he used to pass me around, sometimes. Not that often though. That was something. Even got me some privileges; not just getting to fly. I got to eat fresh food sometimes; he used to let me use his shower if he was in a really good mood, if I'd been good for him.'

He shivers; he'd paid dearly for each and every favour, in blood, mostly. He'd been no one, just a valueless, nameless boy. If Barton hadn't taken a fancy to him, he probably wouldn't have survived.

He had though.

'Hey.' Duo touches his wrist lightly. 'You're cold. Want to come back in to my crappy little bed?'

'Please.'

He is shivering, not sure if it's cold or memories, but he lets Duo take his hand, lead him inside. The bed isn't all that bad, really. It's warm and Duo's there, holding him, letting him talk. He's never, never, told anyone all of this. He'd told Quat the very bare minimum; that he'd been raped once, and who'd done it. Never anything more because it had made Quat cry.


	14. The Chocolate Hypothesis

Note the first: Apologies for the ridiculously long delay between updates. There have been terminal laptop issues and minor human health issues, and moving-around-the-world issues. Back on course now!

Note the second: Many, many thanks as always to the amazing Kaeru Shisho for editing and encouragement and everything else..

 **The Chocolate Hypothesis:**

'So,' Duo announces abruptly into his 'phone, 'if I asked you to get me some chocolate, what would you get?'

Trowa laughs. 'Is this a really unsubtle hint that you want me to go out and buy you some?'

'Nope, purely hypothetical. So?'

'Lindt dark chocolate with chilli,' Trowa says promptly. 'Or blueberries. Or if you're having a bad day, or you're tired, you like the salted caramel flavour. Uh, why? Is it some sort of trick question? If it helps, I may possibly have a couple of bars stashed in my desk.'

'Really?'

'Come down and find out,' Trowa challenges, reaching down for the bag of chocolate-covered blueberries from the farmers' market and crinkling the paper enticingly. 'Duo, are you OK?'

'I guess. If I don't get out of here for a bit, though, I'm going to blow this whole freaking place up. Don't suppose you have an hour or so to get a coffee or something? I need to bitch to someone about how much my job sucks.'

Trowa considers for a second. He does have a deadline for the report he's working on, but he's nearly finished, and talking Duo down from destroying HQ would undoubtedly be a more productive use of his time. More fun too, as whatever's bugging him can't be too serious, not if he's willing to talk about it. It's when he doesn't want to talk about stuff that it's a real issue.

'Yeah, sure. Want to meet me in the lobby?'

'Nah, I'll come down to your office,' Duo demurs. 'Check out exactly what goodies you've got hidden in your drawers. Be there in a sec, OK?'

'Sure,' Trowa says again, trying to keep the smile out of his voice. It's partly sheer pleasure at the thought of seeing Duo; partly a little bit of smugness that Duo clearly wants to see him, after a week where he hasn't been around much, and a nice little side order of anticipation that they're going to be alone in his office.

It's all good.

It gets better when Duo walks in. Trowa has a second or two to realise he's in a strop; that much is clear from the thin, tetchy line of his mouth, and the set of his jaw. Then he takes in what Duo is wearing.

He's always had a bit of thing for hot guys in really nice suits. Seeing Duo Maxwell in a very _very_ nice suit, and a shirt that exactly matches his eyes, and one of those narrow ties that looks like a sex toy, is beyond a turn-on. He should come with a government health warning, quite possibly.

'Hey. Wow. You scrub up pretty well. What's the occasion?'

Duo kicks the door closed behind him, and leans against it. 'Got court this afternoon.' The corners of his mouth hook down even more.

'Well, you are a lawyer,' Trowa points out, sliding out of his chair and strolling over. 'It's kind of an occupational hazard, I'd say.'

'Oh, you're so funny,' Duo mutters. 'Not.' He doesn't smile exactly, but he lets his shoulders slump a little, and then lets Trowa lean in to kiss the frown.

'What can I get you?' Trowa murmurs, kissing his way along Duo's jaw-line. 'I do really have chocolate. I was planning to take bring it home and melt it before pouring it all over you, but if you're having a bad day, I guess you could have a couple of pieces.'

That does make Duo smile, even if it comes with an exasperated little exhale of breath. 'You think I'm a kid, that you can give me sweeties and make everything better?'

'Yep,' Trowa says baldy, and actually gets a laugh in return. 'Want to talk about it?'

'No. Just … keep doing what you're doing.'

'Yes, sir.' What he's doing is suckling very gently on Duo's lobe. He does keep on doing that, as instructed, while his hands loosen Duo's tie, slipping a couple of shirt buttons undone. He gives Duo's ear a little nibble that makes him gasp, and then kisses his way down the soft skin of Duo's throat. Softly at first, and then with a little more pressure, and a scrape of teeth. He bites down properly just under Duo's collarbone, sucking hard to make the blood rise.

'Fucking vampire,' Duo grouses, arching into it nonetheless.

'You love it.' He runs his tongue over the little bruise, loving the fact that it will be there all day, hidden neatly under the smart shirt.

'Might as well just brand me and have done with it.'

'This is way more fun, though, 'cause I get to keep doing it.' He smirks at Duo's expression. 'There. Made you feel better, didn't I?'

'And you're stopping there? Seriously, Barton?' Duo shakes his head, and then lets it rest against Trowa's shoulder.

Such a small gesture, and it makes something inside him light up, in a way that has nothing at all to do with sex. Duo Maxwell, in his arms, wanting a little moment of comfort. Trusting Trowa to give it.

'Hey.' He folds Duo carefully in his arms, wanting to shelter the tiny little moment of intimacy, keep it safe from the universe. 'What's wrong? Is there something I can do?'

'You're doing it,' Duo answers, the words just a little muffed by Trowa's jacket. 'It's this sodding court case, is all.'

'Want to talk about it?' Trowa offers. Duo has become that little bit more open about discussing work over the past couples of weeks, once he's realised Trowa is genuinely interested and ready to press past Duo's instinctive responses of 'it's classified' or 'it's boring' or 'you wouldn't be interested'. He hasn't mentioned a court case though, which means it's really bad, or there's something else going on as well.

'Yeah. I don't know. Not really.'

'Hmm?' Trowa slips a hand up and down his spine, slow and easy and soothing, feeling a little bit of tension gradually start to seep away.

'You still want to go out for a bit? Get a coffee or something?'

'OK.' He kisses the top of Duo's head. 'OK. Where d'you want to go? The canteen or _out_ out?'

'Outside, if you don't mind. You have time?'

Trowa shrugs. 'I can take an early lunch. I have a meeting at three but I don't really need to be back 'til then.' There is that damn deadline, but the world won't end if he's an hour or two late. Duo's more important.

''Kay.' Duo opens the door and immediately steps into someone.

'I've been looking for you,' Heero Yuy states accusingly. 'You weren't in your office.'

'Because I was here, funnily enough,' Duo says glibly, taking a quick step back. 'What the hell do you want?'

'I wanted to ask you out. To dinner.'

Duo stares at him. 'Sorry, Heero, but what the hell are you talking about?'

'Dinner,' Heero clarifies, looking past Duo to give Trowa a quick nod. 'The two of us. You used to say you wanted us to go out for a meal.'

'Oh, for fuck's sake,' Duo snaps. 'Yuy, get real. I don't want to have this conversation and I don't want to go to dinner with you, and I wish you'd bloody well stop staking out my office and while you're at it you can stop stalking me.

Heero, single-minded as ever, ignores most of that. 'Why won't you go out with me?'

'I can think of, like, a million reasons. Number one. We broke up, Heero. You do remember us having that whole conversation, right? When I said I was leaving and that we were through?'

'I remember you shouting a lot,' Heero said wryly.

'Yeah, well, obviously I wasn't doing it loudly enough.'

Heero just looks at him. Oh shit. Trowa's seen that expression maybe three times in his life; every time, it was directed at Duo. He knows how Duo responds; how anyone would respond.

'I didn't think you meant it,' he says, very low. 'You'd said things like that before, and you always came back. I don't know why this time is different, Duo. Please, can we just go out and talk?'

'He already said he's not interested,' Trowa says in a rush. Before he even has his mouth open, he knows it's a fucking stupid mistake to say anything, but Heero's still gazing at Duo with all that aching uncertainty, and he can't see Duo's expression and he just wants that moment back before Heero was there, when it was just the two of them.

'I think he can answer for himself,' Heero said coolly.

' _Thank_ you, Heero.' Duo wheels around to glare at Trowa. 'Damn right I can, and I don't get how it's any of your business.'

' _Exactly_ ,' Heero puts in, practically preening himself at having Duo's approval. 'Stay out of it, Barton. It's nothing to do with you.'

'It damn well is,' Trowa growls, pushing past Duo to stand in front of Heero. 'We're dating. You do know that, right?'

'You're sleeping with him, yes,' Heero says negligently. 'That doesn't mean anything.'

'Oh, hell!' Duo gives them both an equally filthy look. 'You guys want to fight a duel over me, or have a pissing contest or whatever, fine. Go the fuck ahead, why don't you? But don't do it in my god-damned work where everyone can see, and don't expect that either of you is going to be coming anywhere near me after.'

'Now look what you've done,' Heero says peevishly, as they watch Duo stalk down the corridor.

'What _I've_ done?' Trowa gapes at him. 'Heero, you do get that you tried to proposition my boyfriend in front of me? While I was bloody well standing here and listening? Do you even realise how screwed up that is?'

'He was mine first.'

'Yeah, and maybe you'd still have him if you'd ever given him any sort of attention,' Trowa snaps. 'Why do you even want him back? So you can go back to ignoring him when it suits you?'

There's a moment that just goes on and on, stretching into whirling possibilities. He thinks Heero's going to take a swing at him; then abruptly he turns on his heel and leaves. Following Duo, naturally.

Trowa lets himself breathe out, slow and even. He and Heero have been friends pretty much since they met. Well, maybe more allies or comrades than friends at the start, but they've always got on in a fairly quiet, undemonstrative way. He's pretty sure he's just destroyed that.

He's never had Heero look at him like that before, but they've been on enough missions together to know what Heero Yuy looks like when he wants to hurt someone.

He locks his door, carefully, and nods a goodbye to his secretary who's busily typing and pretending she hadn't been listening all along. And then he walks out of Preventers and just keeps walking. He has no idea where he's going. That's what he thinks until his 'phone buzzes, signalling a new text. He checks just in case it's Duo – It's not; it's Wufei. He doesn't bother opening it, but it does jerk him back to reality, to realising where he actually is.

He's somehow ended up outside the little café where he and Duo had their first almost-date. They've been there a few times since, even though he still doesn't quite get what Duo likes about it so much.

It's quieter than usual when he walks in; just a couple of old grannies at the counter, and Duo. He orders and carries his tray over to the table by the window; the table where they'd sat other man only looks up when he shoves over the giant blueberry muffin.

'Here. Peace offering.'

'So, you guys didn't blow each others' brains out then,' he observes sourly.

'Apparently not. Disappointed?'

Duo snorts, breaking off a piece of muffin and crumbling it on the plate. 'Would make my life a whole lot easier.'

'Is that what you want? Easy?'

'I can dream, can't I?' He bites into the muffin and then licks one fingertip, and uses it to pick up some of the smaller crumbs, before he looks at Trowa, one eyebrow slightly raised and a dusting of icing sugar on his lower lip. 'So?'

'So,' Trowa agrees quietly, taking a sip of his own tea. 'You OK?'

'Yeah. Sorry you got caught up in all that shit. He's just…doing my head in. Seriously.'

'You said something about him stalking you.'

'Eh, that's maybe a bit of an exaggeration. He's been calling me, couple of times a day for the past week or so. It's like a freaking miracle. We were together for years and he sent me the odd email if I was lucky, and suddenly he's calling me all the time. And he keeps giving me more stuff. Like, stupid stuff. Those flowers you saw at my place, and those godawful lemon bars. I got a dozen of those dumb helium balloons yesterday, and I had this huge box of chocolates on my desk this morning. All white chocolate truffles, which I guess he doesn't know I'm allergic to 'cause he was never interested enough to find out. And it's gross that stuff; it's not even proper chocolate made from cocoa beans.'

Ah. That's why he'd been asking about chocolate.

'I don't even know why he wants me back,' Duo goes on glumly. 'Don't think he really does, even. Not _me_. You know what he's like; he just wants things to go back to how they were before, 'cause he could handle that, and he just doesn't know how to deal with stuff now and he's used to having me run interference between him and the rest of the universe and if I'm not around I'm scared he'll just lock himself away in his house and dream of being back in J's lab or some shit like that.'

'You're worried about him.'

'I guess, yeah. I still care about him, you know? He's just not great with change. I was this constant variable in his life for years, and now I'm not around any more for him and…., yeah, I guess I'm worried.'

'You should talk to him,' Trowa says suddenly. 'Just make the boundaries clear, all right? That he's not getting you back.'

'He's not, no.' Duo reaches over the table and gives Trowa's hand a squeeze. 'You're not tempted to throw me back at him then? Might make _your_ life easier. I do come with a fair amount of baggage and all.'

'Like the ex-boyfriend who used to be an assassin? I can handle it. I think. If Heero doesn't decide to eliminate me and destroy the evidence. One way of getting rid of a rival.'

'He wouldn't.' Duo plaits their fingers together, looking at him. 'What? He _wouldn't_ , Tro. He likes you.'

'More used to like, I think. After you left, he looked like he wanted to kill me.'

'He was just pissed,' Duo says calmly. 'More at me, probably. I'm the one who fucks up and other people get dragged into it. Not your fault. Just an innocent victim.'

'Not that innocent, actually,' Trowa smirks at him.

'Yeah, that's true,' Duo agrees and grins.

'You're not remotely tempted to go back to him?'

'Why, 'cause he gave me a bunch of pointless crap I don't want? That anyone who'd ever met me for ten minutes would know I wouldn't care about? Get real, Tro.'

'I saw the way he looked at you.'

'Yeah.' Duo lowers his gaze at that, lashes sweeping down. 'That. I still care about him. I don't want him to be miserable or lonely or whatever, but…I don't know, I spent ten years trying to be with him. Properly. And it never happened. All the stuff he's doing, it's too late.' He picks up the last piece of muffin, dips it into the little bowl of whipped cream, and puts it down again. 'And you got me this. That kind of puts you ahead on points.'

'Because I got you a cake?'

'Because you know I have a serious thing for blueberries, and you got them to heat it up for just how long I like it, and you asked for the maple syrup on the side because you know I like pouring it out myself, and you got them to put the cream in a separate little dish so it won't melt too soon. You know I like all those things. Heero only ever notices stuff if he thinks it's important, for a mission or whatever. I wasn't.'

'You are important.' If they weren't in this particular café, he'd show him just how much, but he knows Duo likes coming here, it's one of his places and he knows some of the regulars who cluck and fuss over him like grandmothers, and the waitresses, who slip him extra portions.

'The thing with Heero, that's why you've been avoiding me all week?'

Granted, _avoiding_ is maybe a bit too strong a term, but he'd suggested meeting up a few times after work and, while Duo had seemed regretful, his excuses genuine, it's still been seven days since they spent any length of time together. Not since the night he'd stayed over in Duo's.

'Part of it, maybe. Come on, Tro. The last time we were together, it didn't exactly end that well, did it?'

That's it then. Hardly a surprise. Quat hadn't been able to handle Trowa's nightmares either. 'OK,' he says heavily. 'I get it. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out like that.'

Duo just stares at him. 'You're _what_? Tro, you didn't do anything. I just thought you mightn't want to be around me for a bit, after what happened. What I did, I made you have those nightmares again.'

'No!' Trowa almost shouts, remembering at the very last minute that they're in a genteel tea-room full of grey-haired old biddies. 'Duo, that's not how it was at all. Isn't how it is. I have these dreams, nightmares, whatever, and sometimes, yeah, I can look back and say what probably triggered them and sometimes I haven't a clue. It's just something that happens and it's probably not ever going to stop, but it doesn't mean I'm not going to want to be with you. I _mean_ that, Duo. OK?'Specially if you're wearing that suit you have on.'

'Like it, do you?'

Trowa nods. 'Oh yeah. Like it nearly as much as I like you naked. Want to take it off you as soon as possible, just so I can decide which I actually prefer.'

Duo leans closer, across the tea cups and doilies and muffin crumbs. 'Sounds like you got it all planned out, Mr. Barton.'

'Actually, still working on some of the finer details,' Trowa admits. 'I kind of like the idea of sucking you off while you're dressed like that, but then I like having you naked as well. I don't think I'll be getting much done this afternoon, trying to decide .'

'I don't get any say in any of this?'

'Sure you do,' Trowa says carelessly, keeping his voice low because he doesn't want to give some blue-rinsed granny a heart attack. Or an orgasm. 'You get to say _please_ and _harder_ and _Trowa, you're a fucking sex god_ and..'

 _I love you._

He doesn't say that out loud. Doesn't know where it comes from. It's just there.

And Duo is laughing at him with a tiny smear of maple syrup at the corner of that gorgeous kissable mouth, and damn, he doesn't care about giving the grandmothers a thrill any more. Duo tastes sweet; of all the things he'd been eating. Blueberries and cream and maple syrup. It's a kiss to wallow in, to roll around in the syrupy sweetness of it all. To drown in. Piercingly sweet, and he thinks they both smile all the way through it, if such a thing is even possible.

Duo's mouth is still deliciously curved when they do stop, smiling at Trowa. For Trowa. Just the two of them grinning at each other like loons.

Then the door opens, and Duo's expression changes. Trowa thinks at first it has to be Heero, but it's Wufei.

'How the hell did you know where we were?' Duo demands.

Wufei rolls his eyes, and then turns away to give the waitress very specific instructions on what tea he wants and how he wants it prepared. 'Duo,' he says loftily, 'that running and hiding thing you do is only effective if you don't always run off to the same place. Everyone knows where you go.'

'Huh,' Duo mutters. 'So, you just fancied a cup of tea or what?'

Wufei looks around at the lace doilies and china kitties on the walls, one lip curled disdainfully. 'Hardly. They don't even have a decent Lapsong Souchong in this place. You need to sort this mess out. All three of you. I got a text an hour ago from your secretary, Barton. She was terrified you and Heero were going to kill each other.'

'Well, we didn't,' Trowa mutters. 'Obviously.'

'You need to do something,' Wufei orders crisply.

'People break up, 'Fei,' Duo looks up, finally. 'Yeah, it sucks, but it's what happens. And Heero can bloody deal with it.'

'You ended it, Duo. You never gave him a chance to try to fix things; to see if there was anything he could do to stop you. You just walked out after ten years and jumped straight into bed with one of his closest friends.'

Duo flushes. 'It's not like it was this big premeditated seduction scene, Chang. It just sort of happened.'

'That's not important. You need to talk to him, Duo. It isn't fair, the way you're behaving. You could at least make some attempt to be discreet, and instead you're flaunting it in front of him, the way you two are together.'

'I'm not!' The flush intensifies, though, lashes sweeping down on to his cheeks.

'You are,' Wufei says coolly. He gives the waitress who brings his tea a supercilious little nod, and takes a tentative sip of tea, before making a face at the cup and setting it back down on its little flower-strewn saucer. 'Enough, Duo. Either you sort it out, or I'll do it. Do you hear me?'

'It's none of your business.'

'I'd prefer if it didn't have to be, no. But I think the three of you have provided more than enough scandal over the last few weeks. And now you need to fix it, if you still care anything for him. I assume I'll see you both back at work.'

'Ouch.' Duo's says as he walks off, trying to make light of it, but he's flushed and not quite meeting Trowa's gaze.

'He's right, you know. Some of what he said.'

'Yeah. I get that. He's always fucking right. Hell, Tro. It's not like I set out to hurt him.'

'I know,' Trowa says softly. He takes one of Duo's hands in his, and just holds it, remembering their first time. He knows it wasn't planned, not premeditated, as Duo had said, but Duo'd been pissed, and he'd probably have done it with anyone who was halfway willing. At some level, he probably had known that choosing Trowa, of all people, would escalate things.

'What are you going to do?'

'How the fuck do I know?' Duo snaps. 'Oh, sorry, sorry. It's not your fault. I don't know. I'll talk to him. I will. I dunno. Maybe we can still be friends or something.'

'You miss him.' It's not exactly a question.

'Miss what? Getting fucked once in a blue moon? Putting up with him not talking for days if he was working on something? ' Duo flares, and then just deflates. 'Yeah. Stupid, huh? I do miss him.'

'It's all right.' God, it's not like he has any right to be jealous, given that he still has Quat in his life. 'I don't want to lose him either. I think you should talk to him, you know. Spend some time with him. I won't mind.'

'Yeah.' Duo sighs heavily, and then nods. 'I guess. Look, I've got to be in court in a couple of hours. You still want to get some lunch? I could do with a sandwich or something.'

'Lunch would be good. And dinner? At the lighthouse?'

Duo grins, finally. 'And breakfast in the morning?'

'And a lot of sex in between? You bet.'


	15. Relationships 101

Note: I don't own anything in the GW universe, or a lighthouse, sadly.

Relationships 101:

The door into Heero's office had a poster stuck on it; showing an explosion, and the words, _Caution! Does not play well with others._ Duo had stuck it up, naturally, years ago, and it was starting to peel a bit 'round the edges.

It still functioned as a good enough warning though, not that many people made the trek down here, or particularly wanted to spend time with the office's inhabitant. Trowa clicked his way in: Heero was oddly predicable when it came to passwords. He closed the door behind him decisively and walked in to perch on the window ledge. It was weeks since he'd been in here, and nothing had changed. The room still looked like it belonged to a super-villain out to take over the universe. Rows of computers and a massive world map on one wall, countries marked out in a colour pattern that he'd never been able to work out. All that was missing was a Persian cat to stroke as Heero outlined his plans for world domination.

'We need to talk.'

Heero looked up from his laptop, just a bit tetchy to be disturbed. No signs of homicidal rage, like the last time they'd talked. Shouted, rather. 'Why?'

'Shit, Heero. Why do you bloody think? Relena's birthday party?'

'That's not for two months.'

Duo sometimes said that he thought maybe Heero had been raised by wolves. Trowa had never got it. Wolves were pack animals, with a highly developed social structure. If they'd raised Heero, he'd at least have some ideas about social behaviour. And possibly get sarcasm.

Much more likely that he'd been brought up by giant killer robots.

'We need to talk about Duo,' he said flatly.

'What's wrong with him?'

'Nothing, yet. But if you keep sending him stuff he's allergic to, he's going to end up in the ER.'

' _What_?'

'White chocolate,' Trowa elaborated. 'Stupid damn flower arrangements. He doesn't want all that stuff, Heero. You have to know that. So tell me, what the hell is going on with you?'

Heero shrugged. 'You know that. I'm trying to get him back.'

'No,' Trowa contradicted. 'You're not. You're going through the motions.'

Duo seemed to accept that Heero had never noticed a damn thing about him, but Trowa didn't buy it. Heero Yuy was the most focused, goal-oriented person in the universe. If he'd really, genuinely wanted Duo to go back to him, he wouldn't just be sending occasional stupid gifts. He'd have sent fresh peaches, or some fancy flick-knife, or a bloody jetski that Duo had joked about, or something even halfway personal.

Not some half-hearted, meaningless crap he'd probably ordered over the internet.

'Heero, seriously. Do you even _want_ him back? Honestly?'

'Of course I do.'

'Why?'

'Because.' He looked uncertain somehow. 'He - things make sense with him.'

'I know,' Trowa said quietly. They all knew that. Duo, more than any of them, had spent years acting as a buffer zone between Heero and the rest of the universe, so Heero could lock himself away in this office, or his house, and never actually have to interact with anyone.

'He's still your friend, Heero. We both are. You know that, right?'

'Are you?'

'Yes,' Trowa said emphatically, hating the lost look in Heero's eyes. He was, of course. Heero wasn't just Duo's ex; he'd been Trowa's friend for years before that. He'd known how much Heero valued the friendship. 'Look, the thing with Duo, I'm sorry. Well, no I'm not,' he added honestly, 'but I am sorry about how it happened.'

He did mean that, and not just for Heero's sake. That first fuck in the Preventers locker room hadn't been any way to begin a proper relationship, with Duo pissed at Heero and thinking how much this would hurt him, and Trowa not thinking at all. God alone knew how they'd managed to progress past that, although if he'd turned Duo down, none of this would ever have happened. Duo might have ended up going back to Heero after all, out of sheer habit, and Trowa – might not have been so quick to dismiss Quat's offer, even if he hadn't had Duo waiting for him at home.

That was scary, on quite a few levels.

'Is he happy, with you?'

'I think so,' Trowa said honestly. He'd been happy that morning anyway. There'd been breakfast in bed, and very enthusiastic shower sex, even if Duo had spent some of it bitching about how Trowa needed a proper bathroom with a proper shower, and a decent hot water supply. 'Heero. When he was with you, was he happy?'

'I don't know,' Heero said dolefully. 'Sometimes, maybe. But I don't know if I made him happy. He liked the sex, and I could make him laugh sometimes, but .. he was angry a lot of time as well, or he was upset with me over something. I just don't know how to do relationships,' he added.

'Jeez, Heero. What do you want? For me to give you relationship advice so you can try to get back your ex, who happens to be dating me right now?'

'I don't know,' Heero said again. 'I don't know how to do any of this. How do people learn about things like that?'

'Watching other people, probably.' It was how he'd learned it; watching the dynamics among the mercenaries who'd raised him, and later his friends at the circus; watching friends and lovers fight and make up and align their lives with each other's.

Heero though, raised by a shadowy assassin, and then locked up in a lab for years like some curious biological specimen, hadn't had any of that. Because he was intelligent, and had been trained to blend in, and normally had Duo or one of the others running defence for him, most people thought he was just a bit shy and a bit scary. Not that he hadn't a single solitary clue about how to deal with people.

'You need to talk to the person you're with, Heero. Yeah, sometimes about the important stuff, and sometimes about little things. Work or a movie or what's for dinner.'

'Even if I'm not interested in any of those things?'

Trowa sighed, settling himself more comfortably on the ledge. 'The point is, you're interested in the actual person, or you should be, if you're with him. You're supposed to care what they think about stuff; how they're feeling about something. Anyway, you should try to find someone who you've got something in common with in the first place, so you can do stuff together. Heero, wait, are you making notes?'

'Of course,' Heero said matter-of-factly, fingers tapping on his keyboard. 'It's all useful information. Go on. I have to pretend to be interested in things I don't care about. What else?'

'No, wait, I never said that! The thing is, if you are interested in someone, you should want to know about them. It's part of the package. Like, you do stuff because they want to.'

'Why?'

'Because. It's just what you do. It's part of being with someone, that you want to spend time with them, even if you don't always end up doing stuff that you want to.'

 _And if you played your cards right, you got amazing sex in return._

He didn't say that part out loud though. No point about giving away all his secrets, and seriously if Heero had been with Duo for almost a decade, and still hadn't worked that out for himself, he was pretty much beyond hope.

'That makes no sense whatsoever,' Heero grumbled. 'Why would anyone want to be in a situation where you're constantly pretending to be interested in things that bore you, doing things that you have no interest in?'

'Because if you care about someone, you should want to be with that person, to make him happy,' Trowa said baldly. 'And if you don't, then maybe you shouldn't be with him in the first place. Anyway it's not like you have to do it all the time; it works both ways. I don't know, people just compromise.'

Except Heero and Duo hadn't, ever, he realised suddenly. They'd got together as messed-up kids, in the middle of a war, and they'd never really moved past that, somehow cobbling together their fights and break ups and public shouting matches, but never really fixing anything.

'Seriously, you never did anything you didn't want to, just to make Duo happy?'

'Of course. Sometimes, he persuaded me to have sex with him. Or to eat the food that he made.'

'Yeah, I bet that was a real sacrifice for you.'

Heero stared at him. 'No, it was mutually enjoyable.'

'I don't want to know about that. Ever. So, apart from sex, and sometimes eating food he cooked, you _never_ did anything just because he wanted it? You never just, I don't know, went around a junk shop with him, or took him to one of those stupid superhero moves he likes? Never took him out for a meal?'

'I should have done all of those things, shouldn't I?' Heero asked sadly.

'Some of them, yeah. Heero, it's not rocket science, the whole relationship thing.'

'I wish it were. I understand the science. I can't do this. I don't know what you do that I don't.'

'I talk to him,' Trowa said simply. 'I don't know, it's not all life-or-death stuff, Heero. We just talk about work, or some film we watched, or what we're going to do at the weekend, or what to make for dinner. Things people talk about. So, who is he?'

'Who?'

'The person you're writing all those notes down for. Asking me all the questions. And I know it's not Duo. You don't even want him back, do you? Not really?'

'I just miss him. Not all the time,' he added frankly, but 'it's lonely without him sometimes. I miss having someone else in the house. We used to eat dinner together a couple of times a week. I used to think it was silly, that he spent so much time cooking, but I miss it now, and Quatre said...'

'What the _fuck_ has Quatre got to do with any of this?' Trowa demanded, feeling his anger slowly uncoil.

'Nothing, really.' Heero looked surprised at the question. 'We met on L3, a few weeks ago, and I didn't know what was going on with Duo, and I asked his advice.'

'Oh, for God's sake. Seriously! You went for advice to the one person in the universe who's actually worse at relationships than you are!'

'No, he's not. He's very intelligent.'

'He's a bloody idiot! He left me to marry some total stranger because his family wanted it, and now he's having issues with her, no surprise there, since he's actually gay and was sleeping with me for most of the time he was married, and now he seems to think he can just walk away from that, and get me back. I mean, how does that make any sense to a normal person?'

'I don't understand. You don't want him back?'

'Heero, I'm in a relationship. With Duo, which you seem to keep forgetting,' he added pointedly.'I'm happy. We both are. Why the fuck would I throw that over to go back to being Quatre Winner's bit on the side, whenever he can sneak off to be with me?'

'I thought you loved him.'

'Yeah. Well. Maybe it's not enough.'

'Are you in love with Duo?'

'That's not really any of your business.'

He didn't know himself, not really. What he felt for Duo was nothing like he'd ever had for Quat. More that he liked Duo being around.

'I was sure you'd want to be with Quat, if he left Sura, if he came back to Earth,' Heero said slowly, as if he was working something out. 'That would have hurt Duo terribly. I didn't want that to happen.'

' _That's_ why you were trying to get him to leave me?' Trowa shook his head, mystified. It didn't make a shred of sense, except, if you were Heero, it maybe did. 'Heero, look. Duo and I – well, I don't know what's going to happen, really, but I swear, Quat's got nothing to do with it. We are absolutely and utterly over. '

Ridiculously, it hurt, saying it out loud.

'Does Quat know?' Heero asked, head down in his laptop and typing furiously.

'He does, yes.'

'Right.' Heero's expression, when he looked up, was as blank as Trowa had ever seen it. 'I see. Trowa, I have work to do. I'll see you tonight.'

'Sorry, what?'

'Tonight,' Heero repeated. 'Dinner. With Zechs and Wufei. You're coming, aren't you?'

'Yeah. OK. I didn't realise you were coming. I'll see you.' He paused with one hand on the door handle. 'So, the Duo thing. You'll stop stalking him?'

'Hn. I wasn't _stalking_ him.'

'Whatever you were doing then.'

'Don't hurt him, Trowa. I mean it.'

Trowa swallowed. He'd never seen Heero as the scary guy most people did, maybe because the first time they'd really spent time together, Heero had been injured, and needed Trowa to care for him. He'd seen Heero hurt and lost and scared and impossibly bewildered over Duo. He could be fucking scary when he wanted though; a child assassin turned terrorist who ran intelligence for Preventers and did occasional missions no one was supposed to know about.

'I won't. I wouldn't.'

Heero gave him one terse nod; probably as close to his blessing as Trowa would ever get, and Trowa walked out.

Well, he'd survived. More or less. Upside; Heero seemed to have relinquished his claim on Duo. Downside: Trowa was pretty sure he'd been threatened by the most dangerous guy in the universe. And there was that bloody dinner party to get through.

Duo didn't know Heero was invited. At least, Trowa didn't think he knew. He hadn't mentioned it, at least. He did consider calling Duo to check, but Duo was in court all day, and would probably have his 'phone turned off. He'd wait 'til they actually met up; they'd arranged to meet at Duo's flat and go from there to the restaurant Wufei had chosen.

'Hey.' Duo kissed him, and pulled him inside. 'Good timing, Tro. I just got back a minute ago.'

'Hey yourself. Good day?'

'Boring-as-hell day.' Duo shrugged. 'Spent most of it hanging around, waiting. You?'

'OK, some of it. I talked to Heero.'

Duo jerked back and stared at him. 'Talked, as in had another shouting match? Fought a damn duel?'

'Talked as in talked. Really.'

'Oh.' Duo chewed at his bottom lip. 'So? How is he?'

'Worried I'm going to head back to Quat as soon as he lifts a finger,' Trowa said frankly. 'And dump you. You know, he missed you. And he really does care about you.'

'Yeah. I know.' Duo stepped back into his arms and rested his head on Trowa's shoulder. 'I know he does. So, you guys are sorted?'

'Sort of, I think. Wufei invited him tonight; did you know?'

' _What_? Shit, no, he never said anything, just that it'd be the four of us. It's typical of Chang, though. '

'We could call him and cancel if you wanted?'

'Dunno.' Duo looked like he was tempted. 'Nah, better get it over with. Gotta talk to him sometime, I guess, since Chang's decided to stick his bloody pointy nose in. Pity it didn't get stuck up Zechs' ass,' he added sourly, and Trowa laughed.

'That's all I'm going to be thinking of tonight, whenever I look at the two of them.'

'Bloody perv,' Duo muttered, and then laughed. 'Me too, actually. Ew.'

'Not _ew_ at all,' Trowa teased, dodging a jab from Duo's elbow. 'More like incredibly hot. Stop trying to hit me, would you?' He grabbed Duo's hand, and brushed his lips across the knuckles. 'You sure you're OK with tonight?'

Duo leaned against him. 'Nope. But it's like I said, can't keep avoiding him for ever, can I? And ...

I do miss him, to be honest. D'you mind?'

'Well, you have to put up with me and Quat, so I can't really talk.'

'Not what I asked, Tro.'

'I don't know, really,' Trowa said honestly. It was new territory for him, all of this. He was used to being the one who was still hung up on his ex, not...the one with the boyfriend who was still somehow involved with an ex-boyfriend. His head was starting to hurt, actually. And Heero was his friend and always had been. He didn't want to ruin that, for any of them. 'He needs people around him, doesn't he? He needs us. You.'

'Yeah.' Duo dropped a kiss on his cheek. 'Thanks. Listen, I need to change. Come and give me some fashion advice, yeah?'

'Those,' Trowa croaked ten minutes later, voice hoarse at the sight of Duo in skin-tight jeans. 'Those. Definitely.'

'Yeah?' Duo twirled for him, giving him a good view of that perfect ass, hugged by clinging denim. 'Not the leather pants?'

'Oh, God,' Trowa moaned, remembering Duo in the leather pants he'd just taken off. 'Maybe you should try them on again.'

'Maybe I should,' Duo agreed brightly, swooping over to give him a quick kiss before shimmying out of the jeans.

The little fashion show was a fun tease, he got that, but he thought it was also Duo's way of getting him to relax, the first time he'd been in the little apartment since that night. A way to create some good memories, to make him laugh. Maybe slough off some of the Heero tension.

'Well?' Duo posed in front of him and it was suddenly even harder to swallow.

He nodded instead, fervently.

'You absolutely sure?' Duo turned, very slowly, in front of him, showing off.

'Sure, yeah. Why are we going out again? Can't we just stay here, and I can take those off and see what happens after?'

'God, don't tempt me,' Duo moaned, pressing into Trowa's hand. 'We have to go, 'cause if we don't 'Fei will probably just come here and drag us out.'

'He would too, wouldn't he?'

'One good thing about tonight, it'll be fun watching Zechs giving himself a coronary trying not to stare at my ass. Not while Wufei's watching anyway.'

'You're evil sometimes.'

'Who, me?' Duo batted his eyelashes. 'Serves 'Fei right if Zechsy's eyes are out on stalks. Might teach him not to meddle in other people's business.'

'He'd better not ogle too much,' Trowa said grimly.

'Ooh, you going all possessive on me?' Duo teased. 'I didn't think you were the caveman sort.'

'Wait and find out.'

'Now, that could be fun. Oh, before we go, I nearly forgot. I have something for you.'

'I noticed,' Trowa murmured appreciatively, eyes on the curve of Duo's rear. 'I didn't think I got to unwrap it 'til later though.'

'After dinner,' Duo gave him a deliciously enticing little wiggle. 'Promise. But actually, I've got you something else as well. It's on the balcony.'

'Another mirror?'

He did like the one Duo had given him before, and the kitchen chairs Duo had sanded down were nice enough, and would probably come in handy if he ever had guests. He he wasn't sure he wanted to clutter the place up with more stuff that Duo had picked up wherever. The lighthouse was his, the first place he'd ever owned. He wasn't sure he wanted it washed away under a tide of Duo's flea-market tat.

The thing on the balcony wasn't a mirror. He wasn't actually sure what it was. It was a misshapen thing made out of twisty black iron, and looked like it belonged in some sort of Gothic horror film, or a sex dungeon.

'it's a candlebra,' Duo said brightly, touching a couple of pointy bits where you were obviously meant to stick the actual candles. 'You put them here, you know, those big white ones you can get?'

'Yeah.'

Candles were useful in a power cut, but he'd never got them as romantic accessories. Quat had gone through a phase of liking the silly, scented ones, but they'd made Trowa sneeze.

'Oh,' Duo said, looking at his expression. 'It's fine if you don't like it. I just saw it dumped outside this old house that was being renovated, and it seemed a shame just to leave it there to be broken up for scrap. I thought it might look good in your bedroom.'

'I don't _hate_ it,' Trowa said cautiously. It was a practical enough thing, he supposed, and it wouldn't take up that much space. He could always dump it in another room if he got sick of it. After the pep talk he'd given Heero, he supposed he pretty much had to suck it up and smile. Shit. At this rate, the lighthouse was going to turn into some sort of repository of flea-market rejects.

Still, once he got to have Duo in it, he could probably survive.

It might be nice, actually. Candlelight and Duo spread naked on his bed.

'Wow.' Duo grinned at him. 'You look happy all of a sudden. What's the look for?'

'You.' Trowa kissed him. 'Sex dungeon fantasies; that candelabra thing, and you tied to the bed in those leather pants, and me...stripping them off and then totally taking advantage of you. Maybe we could get another mirror, so you could see what I was doing to you.'

'Oh, fuck, Tro,' Duo gasped, pressing against him. 'Don't say stuff like that, not when we've got to out.'

'Gave you something to think about, didn't I? And something to look for, the next time you go to one of those markets. Now, come on, Maxwell.' He gave Duo a light smack on that gorgeous, leather-clad ass.

'Don't wanna,' Duo whined, and earned himself another smack, harder this time.

'Suck it up, Duo. You're the one who said we should go in the first place.'


	16. First Time to Use the L Word

Many thank to KS for editing, and to everyone who's been kind enough to review.

First Time to Use the 'L' Word:

Trowa eyed Duo's bulging duffle as he opened the truck's back door. 'You do get that we're going away for two nights, right; not two years?'

Duo made a face at him. 'I do get that, thanks, yeah. And I didn't know what I should pack since you wouldn't tell me where we were going.'

'I did tell you not to bother bringing any clothes.' Trowa slammed the back door and slipped into the front seat, grabbing Duo for a quick kiss. 'You're not going to be needing any. Although I wouldn't mind if you brought those leather pants. I kind of like the idea of peeling them off you.'

'Bloody sex maniac,' Duo grumbled. 'So, you seriously plan to spend the next forty-eight hours in bed?'

'Yep,' Trowa agreed cheerfully. 'As per your instructions, actually. Or maybe on a couch. Or the floor. Bath; shower. Sturdy tables. That kind of thing. Any complaints about any of that?'

'Maybe the floor one,' Duo considered. 'I still have bloody carpet burns from yesterday.'

'I'll kiss them all better,' Trowa promised, pulling out of the Preventers parking garage.

'I'll hold you to that.' Duo grinned at him. 'This is so cool! I love skiving off work.'

'Yeah, we should do it more often.' It was a good idea, that. Even if they were only staying at home, they could go to the beach or for a hike; make the weekend that bit longer. 'No problems leaving early?'

'Nah, I've got tonnes of vacation left, and I'm always doing overtime during the week.' Duo leaned back in his seat and stretched. 'So, you planing to tell me where we're actually going any time soon? 'Cause I will be seeing street signs and stuff.'

'Oh, yeah. Here you go.' He opened the right window on his 'phone and handed it over.

'Nova?' Duo looked down at the screen. 'Seriously? As in Nova that's ninety minutes' drive down the motorway and not some tropical island that has the same name?'

'Nova that's a drive away,' Trowa affirmed, trying to read Duo's expression; whether or not he'd been hoping for a topical island. 'We only have two nights, and you did say you wanted to spend the whole weekend in bed; I didn't think there was any point wasting time hanging around airports or driving for hours. And it looks like a really nice hotel.'

'Whoa, you had me at _weekend in bed_ ,' Duo leaned over to kiss his cheek and then scrolled down the screen. 'This _is_ nice. Nature trails all around the grounds; lake with row boats; a stable. That'd be cool. I've always wanted to try horse-riding.'

'A suite with a massive bed and a Jacuzzi and room service,' Trowa countered. 'You needn't think I'm going to let you out the bedroom. And I'm supposed to be the outdoorsy one.'

'Guess you've infected me with the nature bug,' Duo snickered. 'Oh, hey. Bug. Get it?'

'Funny. Not. And you know the best bit?'

'The massive bed?'

'OK, one of the best bits,' Trowa amended. 'No one in the universe knows where we'll be for the next two days. No one organising nightmare dinner parties.'

'It wasn't _that_ bad.'

'Hmm. Compared to what?'

It had been plenty bad, in Trowa's opinion, although the food had been pretty good. Of course, Duo had missed a fair chunk of it. He'd weathered Heero staring at him all though the lobster mousse, and then given in during the roast peppers, throwing his cutlery down with a clatter and stalking out, with Heero a step after. Trowa'd doggedly eaten his way through pheasant and salad and sorbet and tried to focus on the food, and ignore Wufei's smug gloating, or Zechs' doting over him. Duo'd come back in time for dessert, naturally, minus Heero, which had shut up Wufei for a bit, and they'd left pretty soon after.

Pretty bad by anyone's standards.

'No sneaky friends or exes popping up,' he added, thinking about it. Just the two of them in a swanky hotel room, with room service.

'That's what you think.' Duo said darkly. 'I'm pretty sure Heero put some sort of tracking device under my skin years ago.'

'You are joking, right?'

'I'd love to say yes, but it would kind of explain how he always seems to magically know just where I am.'

Oh fuck, he probably had too, the maniac. It would be pretty much in character. 'How are things with him?'

They'd talked, a little bit, driving back to the lighthouse from Fei's, but Duo hadn't been very forthcoming, just said it was sorted, and Trowa hadn't pressed him.

Duo shrugged. 'He's gone to L3 or somewhere, on some job that I think he made up, 'cause no one else knows anything about it. You know Heero. When he's thinking about something, he goes off and hides in his little man-cave 'til he's ready to face the world. It's what he does. But he did say something about maybe meeting up next week, for lunch or whatever. And he's stopped sending me weird shit all time, so I guess we're sort of good. Better.'

'If you say so.'

'Well, better than it was. I think it's finally sunk in that I'm not going back to him. You know, I did try talking to him properly, explaining and shit, but he wasn't interested. He never was,' he added, a bit sadly. 'I always used to try getting him to talk about stuff if he was upset, and he'd just get more pissed off, and go and lock himself away for even longer. I kind of thought _you_ might be like that, actually. I like that you know how to talk.'

'Well, I had Cathy. She was always nagging me to talk about feelings and shit. And Quat. I suppose.'

'Yeah, he did a pretty good job of domesticating you.' Duo sniggered, and then caught Trowa's expression. 'Too soon to joke about that?'

'I'm still pissed off with him if that's what you mean. It was none of his fucking business.'

'When did that ever stop him?' Duo wondered. 'Come on, Tro. This is Quat we're talking about. Of course he was gonna stick his nose in somewhere. It's what he does, right?'

'He should have known better than to get involved with any of this.'

'Yeah, like I said, this is Quat. I mean, you know him better than I do, you know what he's like if anyone does.'

Trowa shook his head. 'You seriously don't mind that your best friend was conspiring with your ex-boyfriend to break us up and get you back with Heero?'

'I don't think he was, not really. The way I see it, Heero asked him for some advice, and Quat just sort of humoured him.I mean, c'mon, Quat knows me pretty well; he'd have known that sending me a bunch of useless stuff wasn't going to accomplish anything. If he'd really wanted to break the two of us up, he'd have told Heero to send me a jetski or a quad bike or something cool. Not stupid flowers or handmade truffles. Who wants crap like that?'

 _Quat_ , Trowa thought idly.

Weird.

Quat had been his default thought for so long, he'd hardly noticed that he didn't think about him that much anymore. Well, he had in the past week, but they hadn't been good thoughts.

'So, if Heero'd sent you a jetski, would you gone back to him?'

'Like a shot,' Duo said at once, but he was grinning. 'I've always wanted one.'

'Lucky he didn't send one then.' He took one hand off the wheel, and curled the fingers around Duo's.

'Not lucky for me,' Duo said dolefully. 'Look at me, no jetski and stuck with you dragging me off to have kinky sex for days in some swish hotel. Poor me.'

'Poor you, yeah. You really want the kinky sex?'

'No, but I know you're just waiting to spring it on me. Whips and hot wax and God knows what. Handcuffs even.'

'Handcuffs are pretty fun.'

'Dream on. Hey, since we're having the ex conversation,' Duo went on, 'what's up with Quat, d'you know? I mean, he says he's happy for us and all, but there's something he's not telling me.'

'Back to him, are we? I thought we were discussing bondage. I don't know, really.' He hadn't talked to Quat much in the past week, not since bawling him out for aiding and abetting Heero's insanity. 'Haven't spoken to him in a few days. What's wrong with him?'

'He says nothing, but he was, I dunno, not like himself. I think maybe him and the Mrs. are having issues.'

'They've always had issues,' Trowa said sourly. 'Can we talk about something else?'

'Back to bondage? No way.'

'Back to anything you like that's not either of our exes.'

'Can do. Oh, mind if I take your phone again? I want to take another look at the hotel we're going to.'

'Wow, swish.' Duo's eyes widened an hour later at the sight of the real thing, as Trowa swung the truck into a halt. 'Looks like somewhere Relena might live. Am I going to have to sell an organ or something to pay my share of this?'

Trowa shook his head. 'It was my idea; I asked you. Plus you've done a tonne of work on the lighthouse and you won't let me pay you for any of it.'

Duo shrugged. 'You didn't want most of it. You hated the candelabra when you saw it first.'

'I like it now though.' That, actually, was a bit of an understatement. He loved the thing, now Duo had installed it, loved the way the candles cast flickering shadows under Duo's body in bed, lit the coppery strands in his hair.

Trowa had seen the hotel website, but even without that, he could have predicted exactly what the interior would be like. Heavy, dark furniture, oil paintings of stags and craggy castles and snooty women in ball dresses, stuffed stag heads looming overhead; lush enough carpets not to give either of them carpet burn. (He grinned at that thought.)

Their bedroom was nothing like that, in the new annexe built in a former stable block. The bed, as promised on the hotel website, was a massive thing, draped in crisp white linens.

Oh, yeah. He could happily spend two days in that.

'Ooh, very fancy,' Duo approved, dropping his bag by the door, and looking around. 'No stuffed animal heads either. Excellent! I hate those. Great view too. I can see the lake from here. You wanna take a walk, go and explore a bit?'

'You want to go out?' Trowa asked incredulously. 'Seriously?'

Duo ducked his head. 'Whatever. I'm a bit cramped after all that driving, and it's a lovely afternoon. Mightn't be bad to walk down to the lake maybe, get some fresh air.'

'Or I could try to find some other way to loosen you up?' He pulled Duo close and kissed him, very comprehensively. 'Still so sure you want to go out?'

'You don't play fair, Barton,' Duo muttered.

'All's fair in love and war, Maxwell,' Trowa retorted, smug, and then thought - love? What the fuck? 'OK, come on, we'll go out for an hour, yeah? Then come back and try out the bed?'

The proposed hour ended up stretching well into what was left of the afternoon, in the end. Walking around the lake took twice that, especially with regularly scheduled stops to admire the view, and look at birds, and make out. When they did get back to the hotel, it seemed a shame not to sit on the lakeside terrace for a drink and watch the sunset paint streaks of gold and purple across the sky.

They really were turning into an old married couple, Trowa thought, surprisingly unfazed about it. He'd spent years trying not to go anywhere near happy coupledom, ever since Quat, and now it was all country walks and hand-holding and easy conversation and sunsets. With Duo Maxwell, of all people in the universe.

He'd been pretty sure he'd get a few quick fucks, and then Duo would ricochet back to Heero. Except that hadn't happened, and Duo seemed like a pretty fixed installation in his life.

'So, did you have any dinner plans?' Duo asked, draining his glass.

'Not really,' Trowa said. 'I was kind of thinking room service, but we could probably ask for something to be served out here. Might be nice.'

'Yeah. There are people eating at some of the tables. Want to call the waiter over?'

'Our bar serves light snacks, and our restaurant has a full tasting menu of local specialties.' He reeled off a list; Trowa watched Duo's expression and mentally said goodbye to the thought of a quick snack, or a post-sex dinner in bed. Still, Duo'd be all mellow and happy once he was fed, and had a few more glasses of wine poured into him. He liked the way Duo got when he'd had a couple of drinks; he went all pliant and biddable and didn't mind Trowa being a bit more creative than usual.

The food was honest-to-God amazing, each course served with its own complementary glass of wine, served by a rapt waiter who'd taken one look at Duo, and apparently fallen in love at first sight. He was pretty discreet about it, but he was very attentive and Trowa was pretty sure they got more food and wine than anyone at the neighbouring tables.

'You know,' Trowa teased, as he signed his name to the credit card slip, and added a generous tip for the guy as a consolation prize, 'if you did feel like trying out the whole threesome thing, I think this could be your big chance.'

'You think?' Duo asked levelly, sliding his gaze over the waiter as he walked away. 'He's pretty hot all right. And it's obvious he's up for it. We could ask him what time his shift finishes.'

'You're serious?' Trowa spluttered wine all over his lap.

'About as serious as you are,' Duo said sweetly. 'Don't think either of us is really the sharing type. God, your face, though. Wish I'd had a camera.'

'Brat.'

'You love it.'

That word again. 'I do, yeah.'

He passed Duo the last of the little mint chocolates that had come with their coffees, and gave a mock gasp of shock when Duo shook his head.

'Couldn't eat another thing, seriously,' Duo moaned. 'I'm pretty sure that was the best food I've ever had in my life. Those scallops. And the lobster. And that second dessert; the prosecco and elderflower sorbet. Oh, God. I wanted to marry it. Or the chef.'

Marry me instead, Trowa thought, and then thought, _oh, fucking hell._

He'd never wanted just a fling with Duo but, deep down, he'd never really been sure that it would last. If Duo hadn't run back to Heero, he'd half-assumed it would just fizzle out, once they'd binged on the sex.

'Watching you eat it was definitely a five-star experience,' he teased, poking Duo in the side and making him squawk.

'Don't! I've eaten so much, I'll burst if you do that again.'

'What a shame. I was planning to poke you a lot once we get back to the room. Walk 'round the garden first?'

'Please, yeah. I think I need a bit of fresh air. Not used to so much drink in one go.'

'Aha!' Trowa twirled an imaginary moustache, and pulled him out of his chair, and down the steps. 'The first step in my evil plan to get you in a drunken state so I can take advantage of you seems to have succeeded very nicely.'

'Yeah? So what's stage two of the plan? You going to debauch the hell out of me?'

'That was on the cards, yes.' Instead, he slipped an arm around Duo's waist and pulled him in for a gentle kiss. Duo pressed closer, head on Trowa's shoulder.

'This is really nice.'

'Isn't it?' Trowa brushed his lips over Duo's temple.

'There's a path down to that little jetty by the lake. Want to try that? It shouldn't take too long.'

'OK.'

It was almost sickenly romantic. Fairly lights and lanterns in the trees on either side, and the air fragrant with flowers. The gentle lap of water. Duo Maxwell in his arms, sweetly affectionate and teasing, and not objecting at all to Trowa gently slipping his shirt buttons undone so he could bite a trail of nibbling kisses down Duo's bare chest.

'Trowa? What are you doing?'

'You said something about kinky sex. Does doing it outdoors count?'

'We can't!' Nothing more than an automatic protest, Trowa thought. He certainly wasn't moving away; the opposite if anything. 'What if someone comes?' There was definitely a bit of a whine in there, though.

'Then, they'll get to see something that's not in the hotel brochure.' He slid the zip of Duo's jeans all the way down, and slipped off their little bench, nuzzling between Duo's legs. 'Not the one I read anyway.'

God, he loved this. The feel of Duo in his mouth, and those little whimpery sounds, and the way Duo's hands were clutching at his hair. The way Duo slumped against him, after, before he roused himself to move and return the favour.

It was warm enough that it was pleasant just to lie there, on the velvet-soft lawn, afterwards. Romantic as hell, if you were into that sort of things. A star-jewelled sky, and the gentle murmur of water, and Duo curled against him, playing idly with his hair, and throwing in the occasional earlobe-nibble for good measure, because he'd discovered just how much Trowa liked that.

'Y'know, if you keep doing that,' he remarked, 'we'd better either head back to our room, or else you're going to find out what _real_ outdoor sex is like.'

Duo actually thought about it; at least, he was quiet for a minute, with his tongue sliding around Trowa's ear, before he said anything.

'Room, I think. I like the idea of trying out that bed.'

'Me too, oddly enough. Come on.'

Duo got the bathroom first, while Trowa checked the locks on doors and windows, and rummaged in his bag for the super-sized bottle of lube he'd brought.

'You planning to use up all of that?' Duo asked, coming into the room.

'Every drop,' Trowa confirmed, smirking. 'Right. Just give me five minutes. I expect you naked and in bed when I come back.'

'Yes, sir,' Duo said smartly.

He was on the bed, all right, a few minutes later. He was still fully dressed and he was fast asleep.

Trowa gave a rueful, surprisingly fond shake of his head. So much for their promised sexual marathon. Oddly, he didn't mind all that much. His fault anyway; pouring drink into Duo. He got them both undressed and under all those acres of snowy sheets and duvets and pulled the other man into his arms. Duo was much more of a cuddler asleep than when he was awake, he thought fondly, and fell asleep cresting a sudden wave of affection.

It didn't last. Duo woke him to darkness and silence by jabbing a sharp elbow into his stomach; for a mad second, he thought Duo was attacking him for something, and then realised Duo was climbing over him, banging his heel off Trowa's shin in the process.

'Sorry, Tro,' he muttered. 'Gotta piss.'

Trowa mumbled a curse and settled back down. Then he had a sudden thought and flicked on his bedside light. It might stop Duo banging into any more of him when he came back to bed.

'Oh God. Fuck.' Duo grumbled, settling back in beside him. 'I can't believe we both crashed. That's like, so not what I was planning to do to you. You know, we're turning into one of those couples.'

'What couples?' Trowa asked groggily.

'The ones that wear matching sweaters. And go to garden centres on weekends.'

'Duo, you don't even have a garden,' Trowa objected, not entirely sure what was the issue. He'd never been to a garden centre in his life, but he'd thought they were fairly inoffensive places, definitely not deserving of the horrified note in Duo's voice.

'I could end up getting a window box,' Duo said glumly.

'For your balcony? You don't have space. Anyway, what's wrong with going to garden centres?'

'It's just so…domesticated.'

Trowa burst out laughing. 'Maxwell, if you're worrying about us getting domesticated, I hate to tell you, but that ship sailed weeks ago. You've practically re-decorated my entire house, and we cook together all the time, and sometimes when you stay over we don't even have sex.'

'Yeah, but we've never flaked out during the preliminaries before.'

'I think it's excusable after a seven-course meal and however many bottles of wine,' Trowa said dryly. 'And there was a bit of lakefront action. Plus, it was more of a pit-stop than anything.'

'Yeah?' Duo slid back on top of him in one deliciously sinuous movement. 'You nearly ready for the big event now then?'

'Getting there.' He gasped as Duo rubbed against him. 'No, wait, scratch that. I'm there.'

'So, tell me, what exactly were all these things that you were planning to do to me?'

Duo kissed him. 'Whatever you want.'

'You know what I want.' He shifted, very deliberately, lying back on the pillows and spreading his legs.

'Oh.'

Oh, shit. He'd thought they'd got past this. He'd coaxed Duo into topping just once since that night, when he'd had his nightmare, and it had been fucking (no pun intended) terrible. Duo had been clearly terrified of hurting him, hardly moving at all and stopping every two seconds to check he was all right, although he'd let go a bit at the end. They'd at least done it, anyway, and there hadn't been any bad dreams. He thought they'd moved on.

'You all talk and no action, Maxwell?' he teased, trying to lighten things up a bit. 'Not _up_ for it? Or d'you not want me?'

'Just don't wanna hurt you,' Duo mumbled, not looking at him.

Damn.

'Duo, listen. Yeah, I've had some bad experiences in the past. So've you. But it was a long time ago, and I love getting fucked, and I loved you doing it to me, that night. I _loved_ it, OK? And I really, really want it now. Want you in me,' he added dreamily. 'You don't want me?'

'Trowa. You know I do.' He was still hesitating though.

'You going to make me beg for it?'

'No! I just... hell, you know.' He was gnawing his lip, looking down at Trowa, his forehead creased.

Shit. They really had to get past this, somehow. If Duo genuinely didn't like being on top, that was fair enough. But he clearly had the first time, had loved every minute of it, and Trowa really loved being on the bottom, and it was driving him mad that Duo was treating him like some fragile -victim.

'You didn't hurt me the last time,' he said bluntly. 'Well, OK, my ass was pretty sore after you pounding me, but I liked that, liked being able to remember you in me. I'd love you to do it again. Want to wake you in the morning and remember every thing you did to me. I trust you, Duo. Totally. And you have no idea how much I want you.'

'OK.'

Trowa was practically sobbing by the time Duo was ready. Begging definitely. More than a little swearing.

He'd been proud, before, that he'd got to teach Duo the benefits of foreplay, even if he never achieved anything else in his life. Of course, that had been before Duo turned the tables on him, spending several lifetimes getting him ready, before finally bloody well doing something about it.

He was rather impressed, actually, just because he hadn't thought Duo had that much self-control. He'd clearly been saving up, though, and just as clearly lost it as soon as he got started properly. Not much Trowa could do but hang on for the ride (Duo would have bruises the next day; probably they both would) lost in sensation and Duo's eyes staring into his.

Fucking gorgeous, those eyes, and the expression in them. Shining desire and need, yeah, but concern as well, as he started the slow – too slow, damnit! - climb to completion.

'Love you,' he gasped into Trowa's shoulder, and then nothing at all, just the sound of his breath and his heart.

Love you.

It didn't mean anything. Whatever people said during sex never meant anything. Trowa knew that perfectly well.

Still, he wound one long lock of Duo's hair around his wrist and murmured the words back to him.


	17. Incoming

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing does not belong to me in any way, shape or form.

Incoming:

He's been looking forward to this. A night in, alone.

OK, he tells himself resolutely that he's been looking forward to it, to having the lighthouse to himself.

It's been two weeks since they got back from Nova, and Duo's stayed over every night; even if he only got there at four am last Wednesday, after a late flight from London, he technically slept in Trowa's bed, and was there the next morning. They haven't discussed it or anything, but he's essentially moved in, and it's not that Trowa minds, not remotely, but he's had years of living alone, and he likes it, likes silence and his own company and the freedom to do exactly what he wants.

He has plenty of stuff to do; a book he wants to finish reading, and some paperwork from the office, and a film on TV that's got decent reviews, and he should probably get around to defrosting the freezer at some point. He has the evening all planned out, the sort of evening he enjoys, with a good dinner and some low jazz thrown in.

There's something missing, the whole time.

Eating alone isn't much fun; he'd just got used to it, to eating with a book propped against his plate, or the TV or radio on. Watching a film by himself turns out to be a bit boring too, when there's no one to discuss the plot with, and the book can't quite hold his interest, although he does try, reading the same page several times before just giving up, and admitting it.

He misses Duo, Duo's presence.

When Duo is there, it's not like they sit on top of each other the whole time. OK, not _all_ of it. Duo likes tinkering with his latest DIY project- the newest one is a swing seat for outside, which Trowa loves and is really looking forward to trying out, with Duo beside him, on top of him, whatever, and he's started a little herb garden, so a lot of the time he's not even _in_ the lighthouse, but puttering about outside.

He's still _there_ , though. Popping in and out for a glass of water, or to fetch something, or just to say _hi_ and press a kiss to Trowa's mouth. Admittedly, that often leads to something else, but sometimes it's just a quick, affectionate little gesture.

He misses all of it. All those years of convincing himself that he liked being alone, that he'd never be able to tolerate another person living in his space, and now he can't manage a few hours without Duo Maxwell.

If Duo'd been there, he wouldn't have wasted the evening away. They haven't got a routine – their schedules are too different, but whoever finishes work first usually cooks, or sometimes they do it together, if they're both home at the same time. Now the evenings are brighter, warmer, they go for a walk or a run along the beach after, and he's coaxed Duo into swimming with him a couple more times. It's not a ritual exactly, not quite, but they do usually end up on the roof watching the sunset, over a chess board and a drink and easy conversation about how the day went, or plans for the weekend. A holiday together, later in the year, although they haven't decided on a destination yet, but they've both applied for leave.

He smiles at the thought. Two weeks, some tropical island maybe. Mexico or the Bahamas. Somewhere with hammocks slung beneath palm trees and warm water, and silly, brightly-coloured cocktails and maybe some kind of ancient ruins or temples to explore.

Something to look forward to. He gives up, suddenly, on the book he's been holding, unseeing, and starts to fumble for the remote to switch off the TV. It's almost midnight. He might as well just go to bed. He's thinking about that, about his bed without Duo in it, when he hears the noise.

It's not uncommon for Search and Rescue choppers to fly past the lighthouse, so when he first hears the distant, distinctive whirr of rotor-blades, he thinks nothing of it. It's a calm night, but they do training exercises sometimes, so it's not something to worry about. Just that moment of unease prickling down his spine, the _just-in-case_ that never quite goes away and probably never will. He can admit it's nothing more than an old instinct though, lying on his couch half-watching some movie and missing Duo. He totally gets that they both have their own lives and of course Duo's the sociable one and enjoys going out and that's perfectly fine, but still.

He misses him.

It's when the sound comes closer that he jumps up heading for the gallery, gun in hand, just in case. There's a sudden spike of adrenalin when he sees how close the dark bulk of the helicopter is; it had come in far too fast, and then he notices the Winner logo blazoned on the side, and hears the child wailing even above the noise of the machine.

Oh, shit.

On balance, he'd probably have preferred an attack.

He watches it hover for a moment, and his breath hitches as it heads for the ground.

It's a crazy thing to do; it's almost pitch dark, with just a faint light from the half moon; Quat's only been here once before, and doesn't know the terrain, but he lands as neatly as in the heli-pad at his own mansion. Trowa lets out the breath he'd been hoarding, and races downstairs, just pausing to switch on the outdoor floodlights. He makes it outside just as the chopper's door opens and Quat tumbles out anyhow, Auri on his hip and a leather bag hanging from his shoulder. He blinks at the sudden bright lights, and then focuses on Trowa, and then he dumps the bag, and virtually teleports into Trowa's arms.

It's bloody awkward; Quatre's shaking and burrowing into his arms, and Auri's squirming and vociferously yelling, demanding to be put down, and he has no idea what just happened.

'You bloody idiot,' Trowa mutters into Quat's bright hair. 'You couldn't have waited one minute for me to turn on some lights?'

'I was nearly out of fuel,' Quat says simply. 'I had to.'

Oh, shit.

Not like he ever thought this was just a social call, but there's something seriously wrong. Quat doesn't do spontaneous, ever. He certainly doesn't just turn up in helicopters, child in tow, in the middle of the night, looking like that. Looking scared out of his mind and all too obviously clueless about what happens next.

He disengages them both gently, leads them inside and turns on lights and the kitchen heater, and gets them a couple of blankets. They're both dressed for the artificial heat on their home colony; Quat in a light linen suit, and Auri in one of those long tunics they dress little boys in on L4, with a plaid rug wrapped around him.

Auri's frantic, convulsive sobs finally subside, snuggled on his father's lap, with Quat's arms around him.

'Is he OK?' Trowa asks quietly, out of some idea that the kid is sick and Quat's taking him for medical care, but that's stupid. The clinics on L4 are just as good as on Earth, maybe better. Quat wouldn't drag a sick child across the universe in any case.

'Just tired,' Quat says, equally. 'He didn't sleep on the shuttle and I was piloting. I couldn't spend too much time looking after him. And I think he's hungry. He wouldn't eat anything and he was a little sick on take-off.'

'Right,' Trowa nods. Processing information. Quat had piloted from L4, alone by the sound of it. Probably with the damn kid yelling his head off the whole way. And then changed to a chopper and flown here, from somewhere far enough to have used up most of his fuel tank. Shit. He's running from something. Someone. 'What does he eat? He is eating actual food now, right?'

Quat actually smiles at that, or at least the corners of his mouth tilt fractionally. 'He's two, Trowa. He can eat. He eats anything.'

That proves to be a wildly optimistic statement; either Auri is too tired and cranky to co-operate with them, or Quat doesn't know very much about his son's eating habits. He rejects, in rapid order and with screams of increasing shrillness; a slice of quiche; pasta left over from Trowa's dinner; olives; and a soft-boiled egg with toast. Quat doesn't help, fussing over him.

Finally, Trowa thinks of Cathy's kids and suggests porridge. Quat looks blank but Auri nods enthusiastically.

One problem sorted. He puts the pot of milk and oatmeal on the stove to simmer, and mashes a ripe banana to stir into it, and when he does turn around both Winners are fast asleep.

Trowa looks at them, considering logistics. It's easier than the rogue thought that in another universe, this could be their lives. Him and Quat and a kid of their own. It's just a tendril of a fantasy and he squashes it hard and fast, and thinks of practicalities.

Auri looks comfortable enough, sprawled over Quat's chest, but Quat's in an awkward position, twisted in the chair with one leg bent under him. If he stays like that for any length of time, he'll be in agony when he wakes up. He doesn't fancy carrying the two of them up a narrow spiral staircase, not when the kid could wake up at any second, and but he can't really leave Auri alone in a strange place, even for a few minutes.

The worst that will happen is that Quat will wake up cramped. It won't kill him.

He drapes another blanket over them, waits for a second to check he hasn't disturbed either of them, and then goes through Quat's bag. There's a layer of soft toys on top. The blue rabbit he remembers from Budapest, and a teddy which is absent an ear, an eye and a paw, and a big, new-looking dinosaur in a vivid, virulent green with purple spikes on its tail. He takes them out and arranges them on the kitchen table, where Auri can see them when he wakes up, and goes back to the bag.

There's a neat little stack of fake IDs, and enough hard currency, in used and unmarked notes, to start a small war. He lifts up one wad of cash, and catches his breath. When he looks up, Quat's awake, watching him.

'Jesus, Quat. What's wrong?'

Quat shakes his head, arms tightening around the kid on his lap. 'Please. Not yet. I – I can't.'

'Who're you running from?'

'Trowa,' Quat whispers. 'Please.'

God. Quat can still look at him, like that, and just freaking _liquefy_ every organ in his body.

'You should go to bed. We'll talk in the morning. OK?'

He gets a look of pure gratitude, and, fuck, he hates just how that makes him feel, just before he takes Quatre upstairs and into his bedroom. He tucks Auri under the duvet, and finds Quat is sitting on the edge of the mattress, head tilted to look at the painting behind him.

'Trowa. I'm so sorry.'

Trowa nods, not a hundred per cent sure what the apology is for; breaking a promise, breaking his heart; turning up in the middle of the night, kid in tow.

'I didn't know what to do,' he bites out, one hand groping across the sheet for Trowa's.

'Yes, you did,' Trowa says softly, squeezing Quat's hand. 'You came here. I'll sort it out. We will. All right?'

Quat nods, or at least his chin does a little downward jerk that's maybe agreement. His fingers are tightly curled around Trowa's though, like he's holding a lifeline. More than that. His eyes are ocean-dark and immense, and it's everything Trowa's wanted, ever, and it's too late.

He bends his head and drops a light kiss on their joined hands, just a quick brush of his lips across their knuckles, a little farewell, and then pulls free.

'Sura is divorcing me,' Quat says into the sudden stillness, with everything in the universe waiting to see what happens next, what he'll do.

'Yeah,' Trowa says heavily. It's been coming for weeks, longer probably. Duo's let a few things drop, and he's spoken to Quat himself, once or twice. Yeah, he's still a bit pissed about the whole Heero thing, but – it's Quat. He's miserable and there was no way in the universe that Trowa couldn't have contacted him. He's been pretty sure the end is coming to Quat's stupid fake marriage.

He's spent two years dreaming of this approximate scenario. Quat coming to him, needing him. Telling him this exact piece of information. He'd imagined how it would feel.

He does kiss Quatre then, because he can't not do it, and because he knows it'll be the last time. He kisses him and then leaves him and the kid, in his bed, and goes to call Duo.

There's loud music wherever Duo is; he'd been going to a club, Trowa vaguely remembered him saying. Someone's birthday in his department. He'd asked Trowa to come, and he'd refused. He doesn't mind going dancing with Duo, but he hadn't fancied going out with a gang of people he hardly knew. He'd spent the evening regretting it, mostly.

'Trowa!' he sounds sparkly-bright. 'Hey! So, is this like some late night booty call?'

'You want it to be?' he can't stop himself teasing, just to keep Duo sounding like that, waiting just a second to tell him what's happened.

'Fuck, yeah,' Duo groans. 'But, seriously, you'll have to come and get me. I've been drinking and I don't think I could afford to pay a cab driver enough to trek out to the lighthouse.'

'Quat's here,' he says flatly. 'Just turned up an hour ago with Auri in a helicopter. And enough cash to buy his own country, pretty much, and a nice little assortment of illegal weapons.'

' _Shit_ ,' Duo breathes. 'Why?'

'Won't talk about it. I don't know. Something to do with the kid, I think. He did talk about Sura. A divorce.'

'Yeah,' Duo sounds like it's not much of a surprise. 'He's been talking about it being a possibility for the last couple of weeks. I don't get it though. Why'd that make him run off?'

'No idea. Anyway. I think the late night booty call idea might need to be postponed. Rain check?'

'Check,' Duo echoes and the sparkles are back in his voice. Since Budapest, since talking about it, he's been a lot more chilled about Quat being in Trowa's life. Still, it can't be all that easy knowing Quat's suddenly in residence, and Trowa loves that he's sounded more concerned for his friend than anything else. 'Want me to come over in the morning?'

'Want you, period.' It's ridiculous, but he has the 'phone pressed right against his ear, as if it can bring Duo closer. 'Please.'

''Course.'

'Oh, hey. Would you mind stopping off somewhere on the way to pick up a few things? Auri doesn't have any clothes except what he's wearing; can you get a couple of sweaters and pants and stuff? Whatever kids wear. I don't know.'

'Shit,' Duo says, low and heartfelt. 'Q really ran off without even packing?'

'Yep.' They're silent for a moment, thinking about it. What it might mean. 'I'll call the guys, if you like,' Duo offers finally. 'Just in case. You know. And I'll see you tomorrow.'

'OK. See you.'

He doesn't sleep much; he stretches out on the couch for a few hours, but he can't quite relax. Quat's upstairs, in trouble. Quat tends to be a bit on the melodramatic side, granted, but Trowa's never seen him like this. He's genuinely _terrified_ of something, and Quatre Winner doesn't really do scared.

He's worried about Auri as well, waking up in a strange place and freaking out, or heading down the spiral staircase, probably lethal for a small kid who's still a bit unsteady on his feet.

Quat's upstairs. In his bed.

In the end, he gives up on even trying to sleep, and props himself against the wall outside his own room, peeking inside every so often, just to check they're OK.

At four am, Auri starts stirring. Trowa slips inside, slides him out of Quat's arms before he can wake Quatre up. The kids's still too drowsy to make a noise, snuggles into Trowa's arms and on the way downstairs a warm trail of liquid suddenly spills down Trowa's jeans and he makes the highly unpleasant discovery that the tail of Auri's tunic is soaking wet.

Oh, shit.

 _Fuck_.

OK, probably not words he should be saying out loud in front of Quatre Winner's precious and pampered two-year-old.

Well, it's not shit exactly, luckily enough, he thinks wryly. Auri grizzles a little bit as he's whisked downstairs to the bathroom, but he accepts being thrust under the shower and sprayed off. Trowa towels him briskly, and then finds an old tank top in the laundry basket.

He's never been alone with Auri before; never with such a small boy. He's used to Cathy's girls; quicksilver liveliness and constant chatter and giggles. Not that solemn, measuring gaze. For the first time ever, he feels sorry for the kid. It must have been a nightmare for him, and with Quat too stressed to offer much in the way of reassurance.

'Hey, kiddo,' he squats down beside the kid and tries for a reassuring smile. 'You OK?'

'Daddy,' Auri whispers.

'Daddy's asleep, shrimp. He's tired. He's just upstairs. You think we can leave him to sleep a little bit? '

He expects a tantrum at that, but Auri seems to accept it. Probably used to being told that Daddy's too tired or too busy or too whatever to play with him. His lip gives an ominous little quiver though, and then he starts to sob in earnest, wanting Megan.

Trowa pulls him into an awkward hug and the little boy snuggles against him.

'Megan's at home, Auri,' he says, trying to sound calm and reassuring. 'You're on your holidays, just you and Daddy. Megan stayed home to look after your toys and your Mummy, yeah?'

Shit; that was probably a mistake, mentioning Mummy. Auri doesn't react though; it occurs to him suddenly that Auri's never actually mentioned wanting her, just Quat and his nanny.

'How about breakfast? What do you like; pancakes?'

That gets an enthusiastic nod.

'Good boy. You can help me, how about that?'

His nieces love messing around in the kitchen; well, making messes when they were Auri's age or so, but now they're actually able to make simple stuff. Auri's eyes are like saucers, watching him break an egg into the mixing bowl, and Trowa suddenly realises that he's probably never been in a kitchen in his life; never watched anyone prepare food. Just like his father, at fifteen.

He lets Auri smash a couple of eggs into a small bowl, and scoops out the bits of shell, and guides his hand stirring the mixture with the wooden spoon. Auri loves every second of it, fascinated by everything, by the trail the spoon leaves and the texture, when he dips a finger in; by the white cloud of flour descending from the sieve.

Trowa grins, dropping a quick, sudden kiss onto the kid's head. 'Only two, and you're already better in the kitchen than your dad. I'll make a chef out of you.'

It's the first time he's ever touched Auri because he wanted to show any affection; not just because Quat wanted or expected it. Auri beams up at him, and for the first time, he kind of, sort of, starts to see what Quat gets out of having a kid.

'So, how about some blueberries? You like those?' he asks, and Auri nods enthusiastically.

It probably takes thirty, maybe forty seconds max, to turn away from the table and to get a punnet of blueberries out of the fridge. It's exactly enough time for Auri to create two-year-old chaos.

Bright hazel eyes are glinting at him when he turns back at the sound of a crash; exactly the way Quatre looks when he's being mischievous. There's not a huge amount of him otherwise that's visible, because he's upended the bag of flour over his head, and the eggs are in a smashed puddle on the floor, and the mixing bowl is in shards, with the batter a forlorn, pale pool at Auri's bare feet. He's dabbling his toes in it, and laughing his head off.

He's obviously inherited, in full measure, his father's capacity for destruction.

'Oh, shit!'

His own fault, totally; not remembering that you shouldn't leave little kids alone for more than one second, ever.

It takes a full hour to clean up everything, kid included and make another batch of batter. Longer than it should because Auri's now decided smashing things is the best fun ever, and if Trowa takes his eyes away for one second, something ends up on the floor, or in someone's hair.

Duo arrives at eight am, on the dot, wielding carrier bags in each hand. Auri gives a cry of sheer delight and throws himself off his chair and attaches himself, limpet-like, to Duo's legs, before Duo dumps the bags and picks the kid up, Auri babbling away in what seems to be his usual mixture of English and Arabic and made-up words.

It's absurd, but Trowa feels the tiniest little trickle of jealousy, watching them.

'Wow,' Duo marvels, sniffing Auri's hair. 'Were you planning to serve him for breakfast or what? You do get that Quat wouldn't be too pleased if we ate his kid, right?'

Trowa grins; it's not an entirely unfounded accusation. Auri has the best part of a bottle of hideously expensive imported Canadian maple syrup in his hair, along with a few bits of eggshell, and a good coating of batter on arms and fingers and toes. 'Don't ask.'

Duo just laughs, plonking the kid on the floor. 'I won't. It's kind of obvious. Hey, Auri-doodle, this is for you.'

The bag is immediately upended, naturally. There are bright building blocks and a miniature construction set, and a couple of colouring books and crayons, and a big picture book about dinosaurs. Auri dives into the pile, chirping with joy at all the shiny new things, and then takes a selection under the table.

In blissful, glorious, _blessed_ silence, apart from a little happy babbling as he explores his new possessions.

'Oh, God.' He pulls Duo into his arms and kisses him. ' _Thank you_. The _peace_. I can't believe how much noise he's made since he woke up. I thought my eardrums were going to explode at one point. You have no idea.'

Duo laughs so hard at the recital of what the morning's been like that Auri pokes his head out to see what's funny. 'Well, he's kind of had his life messed up, I guess. Poor kid. So, what's the deal? Where's Quat?'

'Upstairs, still asleep I think. I haven't heard anything at least. Not that I would've, over the shrimp screaming blue murder any time I try to stop him doing something. God. I don't know how Quat manages.'

'Quat has a full-time professional nanny,' Duo points out, and presses his lips along Trowa's jaw. 'You're all prickly this morning.'

'Didn't exactly have time for personal grooming. Sorry.'

'Don't be. It's nice.' He nuzzles his way along to Trowa's ear, and presses a light kiss to the lobe. 'You OK? Really? 'Cause you look kind of wrecked.'

'I'll live. Didn't get much sleep. Correction; didn't get any, really.'

'Poor Trowa. Not too tired for this?' His lips slip back along Trowa's jaw-line, plotting an erratic course down his neck, sucking here and there, and then back to his hair. 'Wow. You've got syrup here as well. That kids's a one-man demolition squad, isn't he? Mmm. Pity you don't have a little bit of whipped cream, and that'd be my breakfast sorted.'

'Cream in the fridge, if you want.' He shows just how not-tired he is, backing Duo into the table, and pressing against him. Shit. His bed's out of bounds, but there's the couch, or he could just pull an Auri and dump everything off the table and bend Duo over it and…

'Uh, Tro. We kind of have an audience.'

'What?' He drags his mouth away from the smooth, warm, utterly beguiling skin of Duo's neck, and looks down to find a round-eyed two year old staring up at them.

'Fuck. Cock-blocked by a toddler.'

Duo laughs. 'Yeah. For the record, you maybe shouldn't say stuff like that in front of him. Kids repeat everything. And Quat mightn't be too happy.'

'I'm a shitty baby-sitter,' Trowa grins. 'Fu- ah, damn it.'

'Hey,' Duo squats down in front of Auri, who's looking a bit uncertain at all the physical stuff going on in front of him. He's probably never seen anything like that in his life, unless Megan's boffing one of the Maguanacs on the side. 'It's cool, Auri. I just like him a lot. It's something people do. OK? You can go back to your toys.'

Auri nods, and vanishes, going back to banging something against the table leg. At any other time, Trowa might find that annoying, but he has Duo in his arms.

'You like me a lot, huh?' he smirks. 'How much exactly?'

Duo moans, eloquent and wanting, as Trowa's palm curls neatly around his erection. 'Uh, probably not enough to let you screw me in front of Quatre's two-year-old.'

'Only _probably_?' Trowa teases. 'Oh, hell. You think he'd be OK if we left him alone for five minutes? Could we tie him to the table or something?'

'Yeah, 'cause Quat'd love that,' Duo grins and then gasps as Trowa's hand slips under his waistband. 'Oh, God, Tro, that's not fair, how am I supposed to...oh, _fuck_!'

'Don't swear in front of the innocent little child,' Trowa says sweetly, squeezing the firm, hot flesh under his hand.

'Oh, fuck,' the innocent little child chimes in, smiling beatifically. He has his blue rabbit in one hand, and the bottle of maple syrup in the other. The empty bottle, because he's holding it upside down, and there's a puddle beside him, and he promptly squelches through it, and falls down on his bottom, hard.

Trowa starts to swear, and then catches himself and lifts Auri up, setting him on the table. 'I thought your dad was a disaster in the kitchen, you brat. He's got nothing on you, I swear. _Look_ at you. I think I'm going to leave you out for the bears.'

Auri gazes back at him, uncertain, and then a grin starts to wobble through his sobs, and then they're all suddenly laughing. He catches Auri up into a sticky, squelchy hug and gives Duo a rueful smile. 'Later?'

'Don't have much of an option.' Duo touches the top of Auri's head and grimaces. 'I think someone needs a bath. Want me to take him?'

'Oh, God, _please_. Just take him away for a few minutes. I'll give you anything.'

'Yeah?' Duo hoists the kid in his arms, and laughs. 'I like the sound of that. Back in a few. And we'll want brekkie then, won't we, Auri-monster?'

'It'll be ready,' Trowa promises. 'And thanks. Seriously. You're a life saver.'

 _Love you_ , he thinks suddenly, watching them go outside, Duo trying to keep his braid out of Auri's hands. The thought doesn't quite catch him unawares; he's been thinking it at odd moments over the past couple of weeks. Little moments he's been hoarding up and thinking about, after. Duo in bed, of course, or sprawled on his couch and laughing at something on the TV, or frowning over some paperwork he's brought home, or teasing Trowa.

Duo just being Duo, really.

And now he's got Quat upstairs, in his bed.

That's a bit too hard to process, on very little sleep, so instead he goes to rummage for an unbroken mixing bowl to make them all breakfast.


	18. Blueberry Pancakes

As always, many thanks to the amazing Kaeru Shisho, for finding lost files among many other things.

Blueberry Pancakes:

Life was a million times easier with Duo there. Someone else to distract the kid; let Trowa get on with things. Auri sat on Duo's lap to eat his pancakes, with Duo turning the pages of his dinosaur story book, and pointing out stuff in the pictures and making up little stories; so fascinated that he ate almost absently. Trowa hadn't really thought Duo would be so good with kids, hadn't really thought about introducing him to Cathy's girls. God, he hadn't even told Cathy what was going on. She'd be pleased, most likely. She'd always liked Duo; never really trusted Quat.

Always a better judge of character than him.

'So,' he asked, when they'd all eaten their bodyweights in pancakes and syrup and every other topping imaginable, and Auri had thrown up a bit because neither of them had known he wasn't great with peanut butter, and hopefully it wasn't a serious allergy, 'you want to go up and check on Quat? I'll clean up a bit here, and keep an eye on this monster.'

Duo just shook his head. 'I'll do the babysitting, Tro; you've had him for hours now. Anyway, you're the one Quat's going to want to talk to. '

It was an incredible gesture of trust and generosity and it made something twist, very slightly, inside Trowa's chest. He liked Duo, of course he did. He was good fun and great in the sack and easy to be around.

Even though he'd been starting to realise there was more, the last couple of weeks, it still took him by surprise, sometimes, just how strongly he felt.

'Thanks,' he kissed Duo, trying to show him just how grateful he was for trusting him that much, and Duo grinned through it.

'Dunno what you're thanking me for, Tro. I get the fun bit, playing with the easily-distracted toddler. You get Quat's dramatics.'

He moved in for another kiss, just because. Duo pushed him back against the table, and moved his lips downward, nibbling along the curve of his jaw, and then down his throat with a little bit more force. Not hurting, but not quite, but definitely sucking and biting hard enough to leave bruises.

'Marking me?' he asked, just a bit hoarse, and throwing his head back because _God_ , that felt amazing; the first time Duo'd been quite that aggressive.

'Kind of,' Duo admitted, rubbing against him and adding one hand into the mix, in a very strategic place. 'If I'm letting you go upstairs to your ex, I'm going to make damn sure I'm the one you'll be thinking about.'

'I can think of a really effective way for you to achieve that.' He let himself fall backwards on to the table, and Duo moved to follow him, those clever fingers already fumbling at his belt, and then Auri said 'Oh, fuck'.

Clear as a bell.

'Oh, _fuck_ ,' Trowa echoed. Quat would kill the pair of them. Slowly. He half-fell off the table to squat beside Auri. 'Listen, shrimp. You can't say that.'

'Fastest way to make sure he will; tell him he can't,' Duo observed, grinning. 'OK, Tro. Hold back on the f-word, yeah? And the physical activity that goes with it? I'll take Auri out for a bit; you go talk to his Daddy. And here's a little something on account.'

The kiss was pure sex, delivered mouth to mouth with Duo's body pressed flush against his. And only slightly lessened by the round-eyed toddler staring at them.

He warmed some leftover pancakes in the oven, and made a pot of lemon tea, and paused at the window to watch Duo and Auri making their way down to the beach. Auri was looking like a normal kid, in jeans and a red t-shirt and little sneakers, and Duo's hair was blowing all over the place and he was laughing at whatever Auri was babbling. He'd have given anything to be out there with them.

Quatre was awake when he went into the bedroom; sitting up and looking like he hadn't slept a wink.

'Duo's here,' Trowa said before Quat could ask, placing the tray on the bed, and sitting beside it. 'He's taken Auri down to the sea. He's good with him; they'll be fine.'

Quat nodded, apparently deeming Duo to be an acceptable babysitter. 'I'm sorry. I should have gone down earlier. I heard him yelling. Was he awful?'

'He was a freaking nightmare,' Trowa said frankly. 'Seriously, whatever you pay Megan, you need to double it. Bare minimum.'

Quatre nodded, cutting his pancakes into very exact, bite-sized pieces but not making any moves to actually eat. 'I agree. Absolutely.'

Trowa watched him add a spoonful of honey to his tea, his usual little ritual, raise the cup to his lips, and then replace it on the tray, untouched.

'Quat. If you don't talk about what's going on, we can't help you.'

'Sura's divorcing me.'

'Yeah. You said, last night. I'm sorry, Quat. That sucks. But maybe it's for the best, long term. You both get to move on, be with other people. Be happy, and I don't think either of you ever have been, together.'

He was still at a loss as to why this was affecting Quat so badly. OK, it probably wouldn't go down too well with some of his older sisters or uncles, or the more conservative members of the board, but he was hardly the first person on L4 whose marriage had ended in the divorce courts. And there was an ironclad pre-nup; he'd seen it. The process should be amicable enough.

'You know you're to get full custody, right?' he hazarded. 'Although, honestly, after being with him all morning, I'd advise you to rethink that. Or at least make sure that you get Megan when you start divvying up the assets.'

It was supposed to get a laugh. It didn't.

'Trowa,' Quatre managed, very low. 'The pre-nup's invalid. She's divorcing me.'

He'd said it last night, Trowa recalls and suddenly thinks about the phrasing. Not, _we're getting a divorce_ , or _I want a divorce_ or even _Sura wants a divorce.._

 _Sura's divorcing me._

Sura's decision.

Not, to the best of his knowledge, possible on L4, where it's so fucking medieval that women don't get to make those decisions for themselves.

Only under exceptional circumstances.

'Tell me. Quat. What's happened?'

'She can divorce me; she can instigate it, if she has proof of…of any unnatural perversions.' He swallowed around the word. 'She has.'

'No,' Trowa protested at once, not even sure what he's arguing with. The _unnatural_ comment, the way Quatre said it so matter-of-factly, or the evidence of proof. 'Quat, she can't have.'

It wasn't really true. They'd lived together, pretty much openly, for five years after the war. OK, the official Winner party line was that they'd been 'just friends' who attended the same university and shared a house and then gone travelling together, and Quat, very occasionally, had taken a girl to some high-profile event just to please his family, but it never really fooled anyone.

There was plenty of proof, if anyone did even a little digging. They'd been discreet in a perfunctory sort of way to keep the Winners happy, but there had to be plenty of photos and tabloid articles out there.

Quat had been young then, though, and wealthy teenage boys on L4 got a lot of latitude. In a society when suitable young women were strictly chaperoned, young boys needed some sort of outlet. Sure, there were always maids and imported prostitutes but that led down the slippery slope to the possibility of illegitimate kids and paternity suits and tabloid interviews and tacky talk shows, so it was tacitly recognized that boys might choose other boys for fooling around.

It didn't mean they were gay, or whatever derogatory term for it was currently in use on L4. It was just experimentation and youthful high spirits.

So, yeah, it was officially frowned upon but everyone turned a blind eye to it, once appearances were kept up, and no one's name got dragged through the mud.

There was no way Sura could use any of that; a teenage boy going through a bit of a phase before he'd even met her. After the wedding, they'd been obsessively careful that no one would ever know.

He said all that; actually, he wasn't entirely sure exactly what he said. Anything that might have stopped Quat looking like that. He only paused when Quatre curled fingers around his wrist, lightly.

'Trowa. It wasn't with you.'

'Who?' He didn't even get to complete the question. He knew. God, of course he did. It wasn't even that much of a surprise, really. Some part of his subconscious must have put it together, because he'd had all the pieces, except he'd managed to blank it. Thinking about Duo, probably.

Quat had all but told him, in Budapest, saying he could only ever be with someone he totally trusted. That was a very narrow group of people, and only one of them was currently in any way available. God, he'd even mentioned meeting Heero.

'When you met him, on L3. Before we met up in Hungary. Was that it?'

Quat nodded, one hand still on Trowa's arm, the other playing with the bed-sheet, arranging it into little pleats. 'It was…nothing really happened. We just talked, mostly. But he did stay the night in my suite.

'What does _mostly talked_ mean, exactly?' Trowa demanded. God, not like he had any right to feel…what? Jealous? But there'd always been a part of him that had kind of liked the idea of Quat stuck in his loveless marriage, with Sura no remote threat; that Quatre still loved only him.

Quatre still didn't look at him. 'He was … very upset, about what was going on with Duo. He didn't really understand what Duo wanted.'

'Maybe he should've asked him,' Trowa said coldly. 'Tried talking to him once in a while, instead of just using him for sex when he felt like it, and freezing him out the rest of the time.'

'I know, Trowa. But, he's not much good at that sort of thing, and Duo,..,,well, you know what he's like. If he doesn't want to talk about something, he won't.'

'Right. So it's all Duo's fault. Sure. Let's throw him under the bus so Heero gets to come out the good guy.'

'Oh, Trowa, I never said that.'

'You came damn close,' Trowa snapped. 'So, yay, good for you, Quat, you actually got Heero Yuy to talk about something. You should get some sort of damn trophy. So, where the fuck does that leave all of us?'

'Trowa. Please don't.'

'You came here. Your choice. What did you think; that I wouldn't ask what this is all about? Why the fuck didn't you just go to Heero, if you've fallen for him?'

'Please, don't,' Quat said again, a little shaky. 'It isn't like that. We just…'

'Talked, yeah,' Trowa said tightly. 'You said. I got that.'

He also got, loud and clear, that it hadn't been just talking. That was pretty damn obvious, even if Quat was dancing around what had really happened.

Quatre drew his knees up to his chest, dropped his chin on to them. Damn. He'd always done that, pulling into himself; a snail curling into its shell. With his rumpled shirt and hair, he looked fifteen, the way he'd looked when he'd been Trowa's entire universe.

Damn it anyway. They weren't fifteen any more. Quat had fallen off the pedestal a long time ago.

'He was very sad, Trowa,' he said softly. 'About Duo leaving. And I was….things weren't going very well at home. We've always been able to talk to each other, ever since we first met. I'd only invited him for dinner, and then we realised how late it was, and I asked him to stay, if he liked. I had a suite; there was space.'

'If there was so much space, how come he ended up in your bed?' Trowa demanded. Quat flinched at his tone, at the words, and Trowa did too. He had no right to them, no right to feel like that, to behave like the outraged, jealous lover. Quatre wasn't his, even if that was how he'd always felt, just a little.

That, after everything, Quatre Winner belonged to him.

'It wasn't like that,' Quat said, a statement that still managed to leave a fair bit of room for evasive doubt about exactly what had happened between them. Certainly not an outraged, outright denial.

He'd probably never know. He wasn't sure, any more, that he wanted to.

Quat had, finally and irrevocably, finished them, the moment he'd said _it wasn't you._ That was it. Over. Something to think about later, about how he felt. But now he had Quat miserably wrapped up in his own sheets and the over-riding need to help him somehow. That hadn't changed, even if everything else had. There was an odd bit of comfort in that; he could still care about Quat, and the mad tangle he'd managed to make of his life.

'So what if Heero did sleep over?' he asked. 'You're good friends. I suppose you had a couple of bedrooms in that suite. Who's to say anything happened, that you didn't just have separate rooms?'

'I couldn't lie in court, under oath,' Quatre said, eyes downcast, lashes sweeping so prettily on to his cheeks.

Right then. So much for the _mostly talking_.

'I wouldn't. And, well, he did stay the night, and he is gay, and ….it wasn't just then. I've met him a couple of times since then and... Trowa, I'm just tired of it all. Tired of pretending all the time to be someone I'm not. And I won't do that to Heero.'

'You did it to me.'

Five years of the Winners nagging them to be discreet, threatening him, and then the first years of Quat's marriage, being his dirty, terrifying secret. And here they were, with Quatre prepared to throw the life he'd so carefully crafted over because he'd had one night with Heero Yuy and his apparently enchanted dick.

'I did one stupid thing,' Quat said, unsteady and breathless. 'I was young and I was terrified of losing my family, everything my father wanted me to be, and I did one insanely stupid thing, and you are never going to trust me again.'

'Do you blame me?' He'd meant to yell it, raw and harsh and loud enough to make Quatre flinch, but somewhere along the line it ended up as a whisper.

'No. But, I am so very sorry. I wish I'd done things differently. That I'd been braver, that I'd been honest about what you meant to me.'

Nothing he hadn't said before. Just the knowledge that he was ready now, to be brave and honest and that it was for someone who wasn't Trowa.

'Does he know?'

Quatre looked up, a swift and sudden flash of aquamarine, like the flashing flight of a kingfisher. 'That I … care for him? Yes. About everything else? No. It all happened very suddenly. I haven't had a chance. I need to talk to him, I suppose, in person. I don't want to do it over the phone. And I don't even know what he wants. I know he likes me, but there's Duo and ..'

'No, there isn't,' Trowa snapped. 'Not for him. You can take him right out of this crazy equation. And what the fuck was all that crap about Heero trying to get him back? All those stupid presents?'

'Oh!' Quatre blushed, the way he did, very prettily. He could have been the innocent fifteen-year-old he'd been when they'd first met, all rumpled hair and reddened cheeks and downcast lashes. All totally at odds with the sneaky little smile toying with the corners of his mouth; not innocent at all. 'We – well, we both got our wires crossed, just a little. It was all very silly, really. I thought he really did want to get Duo back, and he thought I wanted to be with you.'

Before Hungary, that had been, Trowa thought. Before that night in Budapest, when Quatre had done his very best to get Trowa into bed. Bloody Quat, playing the martyr as usual. 'That's what Budapest was about?' he demanded. 'Get me to fuck you, break up me and Duo, send Duo running back to Heero? _Seriously_?'

' _No_! No, I swear, Trowa. It wasn't like that! I thought...it might change things, with us, if I came back to live on Earth, that we could be together, but you didn't want me.'

'I didn't want you on your terms,' Trowa said harshly. 'I didn't want to go back to all that sneaking around and lying and watching you date girls. Good luck getting Heero to put up with any of that, by the way. He won't, not for a second.'

'I know.' There it was again, that damn smile, with just a little smugness thrown in for good measure.

Trowa had never, in all his life, wanted to hit Quat. He did now. Instead, he stood up, looking down at the blond in his bed, at the untouched pancakes on the tray, islands pooled in too-much syrup. 'You should eat that, before it gets cold.'

'Oh.' Quatre actually got as far as lifting a piece to his mouth, and then put it back down on the plate. 'I'm so sorry, Trowa. Truly.'

'Yeah.' Quat was always sorry and it never changed anything. He suddenly wanted to be outside, with a fresh breeze and seagulls and Duo, away from Quat's labyrinthine plots. Heero was welcome to all that.

'Right. I'll leave you to eat your breakfast in peace. See how Duo's getting on with your monster of a kid?'

'He's not a monster!'

Trowa snorted. 'Shows how much time you actually spend with him. I'd better go and rescue Duo.'

'Are you in love with him?'

'I think,' he hesitated, 'I'm getting there.' Another hesitation; the first time he'd said it out loud and it wasn't even to Duo himself.

'I'm so glad. Honestly. And about Heero, I don't know. It's not much of a start to a relationship, dragging him into a massive scandal, dragging him through the divorce courts. He'd hate anything like that. I wouldn't blame him if he didn't want anything to do with me after that.'

'Right. Yeah. So. This whole divorce thing. Tell me.'

Quatre sighed. 'It's not Sura, really. I don't think she's so terribly unhappy with me; if anything, she has a lot more freedom than she ever did at home. It's her father and her older brother. They say it's protecting her honour, but they really just want control of WEI. They want Auri, since he's the heir, and if Sura had custody, they'd be the ones to bring him up.'

'You know all this how?'

The faintest wash of colour bloomed across Quat's face. 'Things have been pretty awful for the last few weeks. I, ah, overheard her a conversation between her and her brother yesterday. About serving divorce papers.'

Trowa looked at him. 'You just happened to overhear something like that?'

'No. Of course not. I've had her under surveillance for months now. I knew there was something going on.

'Jesus. That's pretty cold, Quat.'

'No, it's not! He's my son!'

'And you did – what? Grabbed the kid and ran for it? That's insane! Even if you did get served divorce papers, they couldn't just drag him away from you.'

'I think I just panicked,' Quatre said quietly. 'I just wanted to get away, to get Auri away. I don't want him anywhere near Sura's family; I don't want him being brought up by those people, the way Sura and her brothers were raised. They're awful. It was stupid, really, what I did. But I just – I wanted to get away from all of it.'

Wanted to go to Heero, Trowa's mind added. Quat wasn't the sort to panic over stuff; he was all about logic and solutions and discussion. Maybe he'd talked himself into believing there was a genuine threat, but it had been a catalyst as much as anything. He'd grabbed the first reason to justify leaving L4, leaving his wife and his business, and he'd run.

'You should call him,' Trowa said abruptly. 'Seriously. Tell him what's going on.'

Quatre nodded, just looking at him, with over ten years of history in his eyes. That first time, when he'd walked out of Sandrock; the first time he'd played the violin, in the desert; the first time they'd kissed.

'Call him,' he repeated roughly.

He paused by the door looking back, just for a second. Quatre Winner, in his bed, under the lush, glowing colours of the Gaugin painting. He'd probably have to buy one for Heero now.

Quat was glowing himself, gilded by sunbeams and possibility, head bent over his 'phone, not even noticing Trowa watching him.

He waited just long enough to hear Quat say Heero's name, low and tremulous.

Trowa would have crawled through battlefields, broken and bloody, if he'd heard Quat say his name like that.

Heero Yuy had better be willing to do the same.

He closed the door, very softly, and then flung himself down the first two flights of stairs, deliberately putting distance between them, and paused on the landing with Duo's mirror, and leaned out the window.

He said 'I love you' in his head, the way he used to when he was fifteen, after meeting Quat, because he hadn't known how to say it properly. He wasn't sure which of them he was saying it to. Then he said it again, aloud, letting the wind carry the words out over the sea, lost forever.

He had no real idea what would happen with Duo, what Duo really wanted, even. It probably wouldn't be easy; they both had massive trust issues, and it probably wouldn't help that their respective exes seemed to be falling for each other, and Duo was a freaking nightmare sometimes; unpredictable and touchy and probably still at least half in love with Heero.

If you looked at it impartially, analytically, they hadn't got a prayer. Too different, the two of them. Trowa liked locking himself away from the world. Silence and solitude. Duo was the original party animal who needed a cloud of admirers buzzing around him.

On paper, they were doomed, except that in real life, they sort of worked, most of the time.

And he did know one thing, bone deep. They might break up over some stupid row, or because one of them met someone else, or because they started to bore each other – he couldn't ever imagine that – or because their sharp edges started to rub the wrong way, to draw blood.

All the honest, genuine reasons why people broke up, and maybe got to stay friends after if they were lucky.

Duo would never leave him to please someone else; to live up to expectations; for money, because that just wasn't who he was, and never would be. There was honesty there, and loyalty; the loyalty that had kept him riveted to Heero for ten years.

It was just up to the two of them, how much they wanted it.

He was smiling as he ran down the stairs, and walked out on to the beach, looking for Duo.


	19. Seashells and Seaweed

A.N. 1. Many thanks – actually, all the thanks – to Kaeru Shisho, for help on this one, and to everyone who has been kind enough to review.

A.N. 2. This is officially the last chapter, but there is also an epilogue to come...

Seashells and Seaweed:

He was smiling as he ran down the stairs, and walked out on to the beach, looking for Duo, who glanced around at the sound of footsteps. Before he smiled at Trowa, his expression, just for a heartbeat, was all unguarded.

He hadn't known, definitely, how things would work out, and he'd sent Trowa to Quatre anyway.

'Hey,' he caught Duo in his arms, giving him a kiss that he hoped conveyed all he felt, but didn't really have the words to say. Duo, kissing him back, seemed to get it.

When the world started to expand, just a little bit, from Duo's mouth on his, he realised that Auri was running around them in crazy circles, trailing a long piece of seaweed behind him like a banner. He was also soaking wet from the knees down.

'What, you tried to drown him?' Trowa hoped he didn't sound too judgmental, because he really wasn't. He'd sympathise, if anything.

'Eh, no,' Duo shrugged. 'There was this rock pool with crabs in it; he got pretty excited. Wanted to eat some, I think. He's not meant to eat shellfish, is he?'

'I don't think anyone's meant to eat live crabs.'

'I guess. I didn't let him anyway. He's fine now. It's windy, he'll be dry by the time we get home.'

Trowa wasn't entirely sure Quat would approve of this rough and ready approach to childcare but he just laughed.

'So?' Duo asked. 'What's the deal with Quat? Is he OK?'

Oh, shit. _Shit_. Mired in his own thoughts about Quat, he'd never spared a second for how Duo would feel. He told him about the trial in short, staccato sentences and then kissed him and told him about Heero.

Duo just gaped at him. 'Heero? _Fuck_. Honestly, _never_ saw that coming.'

Trowa tried to read his expression. 'I'm sorry.'

'What for? Look, I know you think I'm still hung up on him, but really I'm not. It's been over for years now; just took me a long time to accept it. I guess I'm pretty slow sometimes. Not sure if it was ever really _on_ , to be totally honest. Quat's a bit of a surprise, but Heero always did have a bit of a thing for him. Ever since they were in Sanc together. Shit! I always thought if Heero met the male version of Relena, that'd be it for him, and Quat kind of is.'

'Not really.'

'Near enough to make no difference, Tro.'

'You really don't mind?'

'Don't know if I'd say _that_. I mean, it's kind of a shock, yeah? Those two. But I kind of see now why Quat's been really cagey on the 'phone lately.. When did it even happen? What the hell _did_ happen?'

'They were on L3 the same time, a few weeks ago, before I met up with Quat in Budapest. Sounds like they've met up a couple of times since then. I don't really know exactly what happened. Quat was pretty evasive about it. Just – whatever the fuck Heero did to him, he's apparently ready to come out for him.'

'Ouch,' Duo said softly. 'Do you…want to talk about it at all?'

'I'm pissed as hell.' Most of the anger he'd more or less managed to suppress, talking to Quat, suddenly surged out. 'Duo, I was with him for _years_. Hiding how I really felt because of his damn family. They had a little chat with me, three of those sisters of his, when Quat was still in hospital. Told me they'd tolerate me being around if I stuck to certain ground rules. If I was suitably discreet.'

'You should've told them to go fuck themselves.'

'I should, yeah.'

He'd been sixteen though, all brash bravado on the outside, but secretly terrified of those elegantly-dressed women and the things they'd said, terrified they'd somehow find a way to keep him away from Quat.

'They said…if I really cared about Quat, I'd go along with it. That his family was important to him; that I shouldn't make him choose to be with me over them, that he'd lose everything if he did.'

'Like I said, you should have told them to go fuck themselves.'

'You're right. Anyway, I went along with it for fucking years, Duo. You know that. I pretended we were just friends and roommates and said nothing when they fixed him up on dates with nice girls from the right backgrounds, so everyone could pretend he was a nice L4 boy, and now he spends one night with bloody Heero and he's ready to tell the world he's gay. He's talking about moving back to Earth. Sanc, probably. Set up house with Heero and do the whole happy couple bit. I mean, what the _fuck_? What do you all see in Heero anyway? Has he got two dicks or something?'

'Just the one.' Duo kissed him then, very gently. 'And for the record, you could totally give him lessons on what to do with it. Tro, a couple of things, OK? One, you're amazing. If Quat can't see that, it's his problem. Not yours. But I don't actually think it's to do with either of you; it's more that he's ready now. Ready to walk away from L4 and his family and tell them to screw themselves.'

'Ready to do it for Heero,' Trowa said. 'Yeah, I get that. Or no, I don't really. What's so special about him?'

Duo gave him a quizzical half-smile. 'Seriously? You've never looked at him and thought you'd like to go there?'

'No. Never.'

'Oh, well. I suppose you always had total tunnel vision when it came to guys, and Quat was the one in the tunnel. But, like I said, I don't think it's Heero, really. Not just him. Quat's been pretty miserable with his life for ages now. I think this has been coming for a while now. I think he just decided he needed to make a change and Heero was in the right place at the right time.'

He looked away from Trowa, checking on Auri. God, just as well one of them had remembered him.

'Another thing. This trial, if it comes off, it's going to be massive. Like a real-life daytime soap opera, and that's before you even factor in Heero. The whole guy-who-saved-the-universe thing. It'll go on for months, at least and then there'll be all this focus on who Quatre ends up with. You'd hate that.'

'So will Heero.'

'Yeah, but you know what he's like. He'll sort of steam-roll through the whole media shit-storm. You remember what he was like after the war? When reporters tried asking him questions? Just glared at them and muttered something in Japanese and stalked off. If anyone tries taking a photo of him, he'll probably shoot them!'

'Yeah. I still can't really imagine it. Heero, of all people, with the paparazzi after him!'

'Oh, he's going to hate it,' Duo said breezily, not sounding overly bothered. 'God. If he had his way, he'd probably want to live in some sort of underground bunker, or on an uninhabited desert island, or something. What's the deal with him and Quat anyway? Are they officially together now?'

'I honestly have no idea,' Trowa shook his head. 'According to Quat, they spent that one night together on L3, _mostly_ talking, but it's pretty obvious that they did a bit more than just that. And they've met a couple of times since then, by the sound of it. I guess that's where Heero was when he was off on those supposed jobs that no one knew anything about. Quat was just about to call him when I came down here. I don't know what's going on with them, Duo. I don't think Quat does either. He said they haven't talked at all about what's happening; he doesn't really know how Heero feels about him, or how he's going to feel about all this. That he doesn't want to pressure him into anything, especially not thrusting him into – what did you call it? - a media shit-storm.'

'Oh, he'll treat it like a mission,' Duo said confidently. 'He just needs to figure out what his objectives are, and Quat needs to say the fuck what he actually wants, for a change.'

'I suppose. Duo, what do you think will happen with the trial? He seems to think Sura's got a pretty good case. He was scared enough to grab the kid and come here.'

Duo considered, nibbling his bottom lip. 'Family law's not really my area,' he said finally. 'It's going to be a hell of a tricky case though. Technically, homosexual acts haven't been a capital offence on L4 for a couple of years now, it's more a morality thing, so I don't know how that would tie into them being 'unnatural perversions' or however it's worded, in any sort of legal sense. Plus, Quat's had Sanc citizenship since after the war; he owns property all over New Port City; he could make a pretty good case for having the trial here. It'd just be a straightforward divorce with Quat as the guilty party. I dunno if the pre-nup would hold, and the courts here are pretty big on the mother's rights. There'd be some sort of joint custody agreement.'

'I don't think Quat would mind about that, actually. He wouldn't want to cut her totally out of Auri's life; he just doesn't want her family having control over him, and oh, fuck, where is he anyway? I totally forgot about him!'

He jumped up, relaxing a little when he saw Auri at the water's edge, splashing happily.

'He's fine, Tro,' Duo grinned up at him. 'I've been keeping an eye on him.'

They watched the little boy run backwards from a wave. It was nice, Trowa thought, not having to talk, even just for a second. Auri slapped his seaweed into the water, laughing, and then somehow lost his balance, toppling over, and then going under the next wave.

'Oh, _shit_.'

Trowa reached him first, hauling him by his sodden t-shirt, with Duo a heartbeat behind.

'Hey, shrimp, you're OK. I've got you.'

Auri was trembling, poor little thing. Scared and cold and clinging to Trowa like the one fixed point in his universe and crying brokenly.

'Here,' Duo said suddenly, 'take his clothes off, will you? You can dry him with this.' He pulled off his own t-shirt and handed it over. 'Then he can run around for a bit and warm up. Can't take him back like this; Quat would kill the pair of us.'

'Wouldn't blame him,' Trowa muttered, peeling off Auri's little pair of jeans. His sobs had subsided into little hitching breaths into Trowa's neck, both hands clutching his shirt. 'Shit. I are officially the worst baby-sitter in the entire universe. So far, I've taught him to curse; nearly drowned him; gave him something to eat that he was allergic to..'

'He's fine, Tro. He's a kid. They have accidents. You have your nieces; you have to know that. I bet they're always falling into stuff and whatever.'

'I suppose so.' They were almost like members of a different species, though; Cathy's tough, rough-and-tumble twins and Quatre's precious, pampered son and heir.

Duo dropped a kiss on Auri's head. 'There you go, champ. All better now?'

'Fuck,' Auri said into Trowa's skin, but at least he'd stopped crying.

'That's about right, yeah,' Trowa agreed, hugging him. 'C'mon, kiddo. You want to get down?'

' _No_!'

'OK, fine.' Since Duo's top was soaked now, he pulled off his own and wrapped it around the kid.

'Hey, nice view, Tro,' Duo admired, licking his lips. 'Like one of those black and white posters you can get. Hot, half-naked guy holding a baby. Wish I had my camera here.'

'Oh, fuck off.'

'Fuck off,' Auri agreed, emphasising the sentiment by sticking out his tongue.

'Quat is totally going to kill us.'

Duo grinned. 'Nah. He's the one who dumped the kiddo on us; well, on you really. Not our fault we're not trained nannies. Plus, we're just toughening him up a bit and someone the hell needs to, now he's not on L4 any more. Needs to learn how to cope in the real world, don't you Auri-doodle?'

' _Down_ ,' Auri demanded peremptorily, reaching up to grab a handful of Trowa's hair and tugging. Hard.

'Ouch, you little brat. OK, but you stay away from the water, all right?' He put the little boy down carefully and Auri immediately ran straight towards the waves.

'Oh no, you don't,' Duo grabbed him and swooped him up, swinging him 'round in circles. 'Stop trying to drown yourself, you monster. Hey, look over there.' He pointed towards the sand dunes. 'Bet you can't run all the way over there and back without stopping. You're just a little kid!'

'Can!' Auri yelled, squirming to get down. ' _Can_!'

'Show me then.' Duo set him down, grinning suddenly. 'You know what I just thought of? Heero's going to end up as step-father to the toddler from hell!'

'He's not that bad!' Trowa objected, remembering how Auri had felt, nestled against him.

'I know, just joking. But I don't think Heero's ever spoken to a little kid in his life! He'll probably bring him to obedience classes or something.'

'Bet you anything he'll teach him to shoot. Poor kid, between Heero and Quat, he won't know where he is. We'll have to take him out sometimes, take him to the beach and the circus and do normal stuff.'

'Teach him more about swearing?' Duo suggested, grinning at the thought'

'Duo!' Auri arrived back so suddenly that he bumped into their legs. ' _Look_!'

'Wow!' Duo swung him up, admiring the seashell Auri was brandishing. 'That's pretty cool, kiddo! Think you can find another one? For Trowa?''

'Yes!' Auri squirmed to be let down and took off again.

'First rule of childcare. Keep 'em distracted,' he said smugly. 'Plus, tire them out enough that they'll flop.'

'You're good with him, you know,' He linked their fingers back together. 'You ever thought about kids?'

'What, like in an abstract sense? Or, as in, actually having one?'

Trowa shrugged. 'Whatever.'

'No, not really. I mean, I like kids. They're fun to be around and all, but I dunno, can't see myself with one of my own. Wouldn't have a clue how to be a dad.' He squeezed Trowa's hand. 'What about you?'

'The same, pretty much. I love Cathy's girls; I love doing stuff with them, or having them stay over, but I love handing them back the next day and getting some peace and quiet.'

'I'd kinda like a dog, maybe. I'm always thought you'd have loads of pets.'

'Awkward when I'm travelling for work.' He hesitated, thinking about it. 'We could get a dog, if you wanted. If you wouldn't mind staying here when I'm away?'

'I could do that. What if we were both away with work at the same time?'

'We'd sort something out. Ask Wufei or Sally or someone.'

'Y'know, you could just ask me to move in officially,' Duo suggested.

'You already have, pretty much.' Trowa grinned at him. It really was that easy. 'What sort of dog do you want?'

'I dunno. One of those little terriers, maybe? They're cute. I'd like to get one from a rescue shelter, you know? And if I am moving in, I want a proper bathroom.'

'I have a proper bathroom.'

'Yeah, down five flights of stairs and across a yard. You've got plenty of empty space in the lighthouse. We could put in a decent bathroom. An actual tub and a power shower.'

'Right.' He was grinning suddenly. This was him and Duo, planning their future together. 'Any other requests?'

'I'll keep you posted. I'm sure there are a few.'

' _Trowa_!' Auri barrelled into him, spilling handfuls of shells and pebbles at his feet. 'Look! _Look_!'

'Wow,' Trowa bent down and ruffled his hair. He couldn't remember Auri using his name ever before. 'They're all for me? Thank you!'

The toddler nodded enthusiastically, holding up a large specimen for Trowa to admire. So much of Quat in him, really; the energy, the desire to please. And Quat's smile; happy, with just a tinge of mischief.

He carefully put the shell into his pocket. 'Think you can get some more for me? And Duo? Thanks, shrimp.'

'You're pretty good with kids yourself,' Duo commented, taking his hand.

'I don't know about that. Duo, d'you think they have a hope in hell of staying together? Honestly?'

'Y'know, they actually might work,' Duo said slowly, thinking about it.

'Are you serious?' Trowa gave him a look of pure scepticism. 'I mean, Quat's the most high maintenance guy in the universe, and Heero couldn't make _you_ happy and you're pretty easy-going.'

'Well, yeah, but….look, with 'Ro and me, it wasn't just his fault. I never actually came out and told him what I wanted from him, 'cause I was afraid he'd think I was being clingy or needy or some shit like that, and he never was able to work it out, and most of our communication pretty much boiled down to sex or screaming arguments. Quat's not like that. He'll probably lay out exactly what he wants; killer romantic date every Saturday and flowers twice a week and declarations of undying love six times a day. Heero'd love that! He needs very definite guidelines, you know. Loves everything laid out in black and white. I can see Quat giving him clear instructions. Some sort of manual, probably. The Care and Maintenance of Quatre Winner.'

'Winner 101,' Trowa suggested. He'd meant it as a bit of a joke, but it came out more bitter than anything, and Duo took his hand, weaving their fingers together.

'Tro, you're sure you're OK with this? I get Quat has this thing going on with Heero, but you're still the one he came to.'

'I know.' Trowa looked out to sea, and then swung his gaze towards Auri, checking on him, and back to Duo.

The whole universe had swung upside down, and yes, Quat had come to him, but Duo was the one standing beside him.

'I'm OK. Honest. I am crazy about you; you know that, right?'

'I kind of picked up on it, yeah,' Duo teased. ''Cause I'm seriously smart like that.'

'You little shit.'

Duo poked him in the side. 'Way to totally ruin the romantic moment, Tro. I was gonna say it back too.'

'Were you?'

'Guess you'll never know now.'

'I don't care. I know you like me.'

'Maybe a teeny little bit,' Duo admitted.

'I think it's more than that.'

'Yeah, maybe a little bit more.' He abruptly stopped the teasing. 'Tro, I've never really done all this lovey-dovey shit with anyone. The whole L-word thing.'

'Well, here's a hint. You can stop calling it lovey-dovey shit,' Trowa advised, wrinkling his nose.

'Jeez, thanks. That's useful.'

Trowa laughed suddenly at the sheer ridiculousness of the whole conversation, and then bent down to pick up a long ribbon of seaweed at the water's edge, and pulled Duo against him. 'Say it, Maxwell. Or you'll be picking stinky seaweed out of your hair for days.'

'You wouldn't dare,' Duo challenged, trying to wriggle free.

'Say it,' Auri echoed, latching on to Duo's leg and laughing up at him. 'Fuck, Duo. Say it.'

'Oh, for fuck's sake!' Duo muttered, squirming. 'Yeah. Fine, you asshole. Whatever. I love you. Happy now?'

'Ecstatic,' Trowa said, very dry, and then kissed him.


End file.
